Cotton Candy
by deepfriedcake
Summary: Luke would never be interested in cotton candy, unless a certain dark-haired temptress and a hot night in Hartford could persuade him to change his mind.
1. How to Become a Pez Dispenser

**A DeepFried Note:** This takes place between Seasons 2 and 3. Luke and Lorelai have made peace after the "Go-to-hell-right-back-atcha" fight, but I'm not following the series exactly. For one thing, in my world Lorelai isn't nearly as hurt by the Christopher/Sherry thing. In this first part of the story the action shifts back and forth between the day after and the night before. (I can sense your interest perking up. "The day after what?" you're asking, aren't you?) _Cotton Candy_ is another of my early stories, and even though I've edited it some, I know it could use a lot more! For those of you who have read it before, I've cut it into two parts because it was awfully long. For some reason it seems to have become a favorite with readers - maybe because it's somewhat spicier than the stories I normally spin. I'm looking forward to seeing how a new audience views it. Thanks for reading!

* * *

><p>Lorelai Gilmore walked straight down the center of the 7th floor hallway of the downtown Hyatt in Hartford, her head held high, carrying her black stiletto heels in her hands. It was a quarter to eight on a Sunday morning in August. She was carrying her heels so that she could run the gauntlet of housecleaning staff as quickly as possible while she made her escape to the elevator at the end of the hall. She knew far too well from her own days as a maid what was being whispered about her. She could feel the critical eyes taking in her ridiculous hot-pink strapless dress and her messy hair jammed carelessly into a ponytail. She could sense the knowing smirks at her raccoon eyes leftover from last night's makeup.<p>

It's not the way it looks, she wanted to explain. I didn't look cheap and trashy last night. Last night I had on a cute black sweater. And underwear. I just don't know where they are right now.

She squared her shoulders with even more determination and sprinted to the bank of elevators. She tried to look on the bright side. She had her purse, her cell, her keys. In ten minutes she'd be in the Jeep, heading home to her kid, her house, her town. Her sanity.

Please, please, please, she thought, pushing the down button urgently. Please let my sanity be there somewhere.

She leaned over to tug on her shoes as she waited for the elevator door to open.

"_Don't take off your shoes yet_,"she heard him whisper to her, his voice raw with the desire that had gripped them both.

"Oh, God!" she gasped, whipping around, convinced that he was right behind her just as he had been last night. She knew she'd left him sound asleep in the room down the hall not five minutes before, but she swore she could feel his breath on her neck, his hands caressing her skin from her bra to her hips.

The elevator door opened and she tumbled inside, pressing the lobby button frantically.

She looked at the shiny brass walls of the elevator.

Last night. The elevator. Pushed up against the shiny walls. Laughing. His hands impatiently pulling down her zipper…

"Oh, God," she moaned again, squeezing her eyes shut tight.

The elevator opened at the lobby and Lorelai jumped out, dashing across the elegantly-appointed entry, ignoring the happy families heading to brunch and the proper elderly couples in their church outfits. She just needed to make it out the door. She glanced at the registration desk, wondering if she should have offered to pay for half of the room.

Get out, she told herself. Just. Get. OUT!

She pushed through the revolving door out into the already-warming, humid August morning, gulping down a huge breath of it into her lungs, trying to calm herself with the normality of it all.

Quickly she found her Jeep in the parking lot and with minimal fumbling she got it unlocked and climbed inside. The interior was already heating up, and her thin dress did little to protect her bare bottom from the warmth of the seat. She did nothing for a few minutes but grasp the steering wheel and breathe rapidly, thankful that her escape was now over.

She roused herself and moved to put the key into the ignition, but her fingers were shaking and the keys clattered to the floorboard, and when she bent over to retrieve them she let her head rest against the steering wheel and she let her mind go to the one thing that was unnerving her more than anything else from the night before.

Well, technically, it was no longer night, as it happened around three in the morning. The effects of the massive amount of booze she'd consumed had all worn off. She'd totally lost track by then of how many times he'd pushed her over the top of Mt. Pleasure. She was above him, looking down into his gorgeous face, drinking in his eyes that were shining up at her, offering her things she could only guess at.

She'd looked at him then, her mouth had opened, and words had popped out. She'd had no control of them. It was like she was a Pez dispenser. Once her mouth had opened the words were there, pushing up from her heart, and she had been helpless to stop them.

"I love you," she'd told him, breathlessly, sincerely.

She winced now in the Jeep, letting her forehead thump gently against the steering wheel. She knew she couldn't play them off as some sort of a drunken 'Hey, I love you, man,' sort of thing. And she wasn't the type to just go around and say those words randomly. That's why she was so freaked out by them. She'd never said them before―at least not to a guy.

She was supposed to say those words to Max. After all, he'd asked her to marry him and she'd said yes, which implied those words, right? But somehow her quick tongue had managed to keep those particular three words at bay and she'd somehow managed to substitute enough other phrases to keep him satisfied. Finally she'd had her epiphany and called the wedding off.

She'd imagined saying the words to Christopher for a large portion of her life. She'd imagined it when she found out she was pregnant. She imagined it on the day Rory was born. She'd daydreamed about it for years. One day everything would be right and perfect, and she'd say those words to him. But the funny thing was, that day had apparently come and she'd had no desire to say the words after all because they weren't true. He was with Sherry now and that fact no longer hurt. There had been stinging anger over his actions, and fury at herself for getting sucked into his daydreams again, but much to her surprise it hadn't devastated her at all.

So those words had evaded her until last night when they felt the need to spring out of her during what was essentially a one-night stand.

She groaned, slapping her hand over her eyes in mortification. Maybe he wouldn't remember. Maybe the alcohol fog had still been in effect for him. He'd heard her at the time, that much was clear in the way he'd pushed himself up, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her over and over. He'd heard, but maybe he wouldn't remember. She pinned her hopes on that.

Sighing, she started the car. She needed to get home. She needed to see Rory. She needed a shower and to get out of this joke of a dress. She needed underwear. She needed to get her head together so she could face her daughter.

Rory could never, never know. People thought the two of them had no boundaries, but they were wrong. Last night she'd crossed a line, a huge, freakin' line, and she'd give up Mallomars forever before she ever let Rory know the truth of it.

Focus, Lorelai, she told herself, as she started the drive back to Stars Hollow. Don't lose it now. Come up with a plan.

A plan to hold herself together so could face Sookie, Miss Patty and Babette, Luke.

Oh God! She actually whimpered out loud. _Luke!_ How the hell could she face Luke after what she'd done?

She didn't have a clue, but she had a 45-minute drive to come up with a plan.

* * *

><p>The day had been going far too well. The guests at the Independence Inn had been far too pleasant, too easily charmed by the décor of the building and the personality of the hostess. Children accompanying their parents were too easily distracted by the pond and volleyball court outside. The chef had accepted her new husband's vegetable offerings eagerly and had planned a menu around them without incident. And most telling of how freakishly nice the day was, Lorelai and Michel stood at the front desk, giggling while playing a naughty version of 'Hangman' in French.<p>

Their game was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. Michel answered it without any threats from Lorelai, his voice charming and warm.

"Independenze Inn! How may we help you?" he purred into the phone. "Oh, yes, of course!" he said eagerly after listening for a moment. "She is right here! Let me transfer you."

He held the phone out to Lorelai with a huge smile, and she took it from him with a smile of her own and a little shake of her head. 'Charming Michel' was a rare treat.

"This is Lorelai," she said into the phone, still smiling at him, just as he whispered to her, "It's your muth-thar."

Her mouth opened in shock as she watched the satisfied smirk settle over Michel's face. She wanted to rip his lavender tie off and stuff it down his throat, but revenge would have to wait.

"Lorelai, it's your mother." Emily was speaking rapidly. "You owe me, and I expect you to do this for me without any of your usual excuses. This is one of the times when you need your family to rally around, and I will not brook any form of rebellion from you. Do I make myself clear? I don't care what sort of insipid festival is going on in your little storybook village, or how many cats died this week, or how many little Korean girls have Bible-verse reciting contests. You will be here tonight, for me, your mother!"

"Geez, Mom, take a breath!" Lorelai commanded, trying not to recognize her own language pattern in Emily's tirade. "What's the emergency?"

"You will be at the Hyatt tonight at 7:30," Emily continued. "You will dress appropriately, and you will be there, because you owe me!"

"I _owe_ you?" Lorelai scoffed.

"Yes!" Emily said eagerly. "Last April, you had finals, and I let you miss a Friday night dinner so you could go meet with your study group. At the time you said, 'I'll owe you one, Mom,' and tonight's the night you owe me. I'm calling in your marker, Lorelai."

"My marker?" This was turning into one of the more bizarre conversations she'd had with her mother, and that was saying something. "Have you been watching World Championship Poker on ESPN or something, Mom? What's going on?"

Emily sighed deeply. "If you must know, it's Lydia Charleston. The woman is insufferable. No one ever wants to serve on a committee with her, because the woman is incapable of rational thought. Back when Rory first started Chilton, I agreed to work with her, however, because I thought it would be advantageous to build up some goodwill…"

"Wait, wait!" Lorelai was trying to piece things together. "This is Headmaster Charleston's wife?"

"No, no, no! Bitty Charleston is a delight! No," and here Emily sighed again, "Lydia is his sister. And I know Rory doesn't need my help any longer to secure her place at Chilton, but at the time I signed up to help Lydia with this fundraiser, I really thought I was being farsighted. But the whole thing's been a disaster from start to finish. She has no sense of design, no idea of propriety, no common sense, no inkling whatsoever of what goes into making a successful evening, and no friends to come to the damn thing at all!" Emily's tone was reaching into hysteria by the end of the sentence.

Lorelai was silent for a moment, listening to her mother's rapid breathing. "So, what do you need me to do?" she asked cautiously.

"I need you there tonight. I need bodies to fill the tables. So help me, Lorelai, you will do this for me. You will be there, in one of those seats, in a dress minus any rhinestones over your chest spelling out something inappropriate."

Lorelai squeezed her eyes shut, saying goodbye to her vision of tonight which included several containers of Ben and Jerry's and a marathon viewing of Project Runway. "Mom, I…"

"Lorelai!" Emily thundered. "I don't care what I have to do to get you there! I will hire Michel to hogtie you and throw you in a car and bring you there! I will give your naked baby pictures to your diner man!" She paused momentarily and swiftly reconsidered. "Or would it be better if I gave Michel the pictures and hired the iceman to tie you up?"

"_Mom!_" Lorelai gasped, truly shocked both at her mother's implication and at the thrill that shot through her at the thought of it.

"On second thought," Emily continued, "bring him along. He's got a suit, right? He'd fill one more seat. In fact, bring along anyone you find beside the road. Hitchhikers. Serial killers. Oh, this night is going to be such a disaster," she moaned.

"Mom, I think it's kind of late to get anyone else to come," Lorelai said, beating back into the far reaches of her mind the image of Luke in a suit, a boyish grin on his face and a rope in his hands, "but I'll be there."

Emily sucked in an abrupt breath along with all of the other threats she was preparing to voice. "Thank you, Lorelai," she said, subdued.

"So, what's this shindig for?"

One more huge sigh. "Migratory songbirds."

Lorelai made a very unladylike snort of laughter. "Mom, seriously? That's the cause? I'm missing Project Runway for songbirds?"

"I'll have you know, it's a very real concern," Emily huffed. "Their habitats are being destroyed, and cell phone towers are interfering with their migratory pattern, and…Oh, what's the use?" she grumbled. "Yes, the whole evening's ridiculous, but you will be there!"

"See you at 7:30," she agreed.

"Dressed appropriately!" Emily reminded her one more time.

Lorelai replaced the receiver into the cradle, her thoughts jumping back and forth from how to best torture Michel for his part in rooking her into this evening, the contents of her closet and how she could dress as tackily as possible to push her mother's buttons while still looking good, and … Luke… in a suit … with…

Try as she might, she couldn't keep the grin off of her face.

* * *

><p>Emily Gilmore caught a flash of garish color in her peripheral vision and turned, frowning, to deal with it. A long-suffering sigh escaped her as she confirmed what she had feared: It was her daughter.<p>

She watched as Lorelai sashayed her way across the ballroom to her, stopping to talk to family acquaintances along the way, that grin blooming on her face the way it always did when she knew she was doing something to irk her mother. Emily made a point of looking deliberately at her tiny, diamond-encrusted watch as Lorelai came to a stop in front of her.

"Don't try that one on me, Mom! It's 7:35. I was here on time!" Lorelai protested.

Emily set her lips and looked Lorelai over. She allowed herself to relax a bit. Except for the trailer-park color, Lorelai looked very nice. The dress hit her right above the knees, so it wasn't too short, although it did hug her hips. She wore a black knitted shrug over it, with feminine ruffles over the shoulders and down the front, making the strapless dress completely acceptable. Her hair settled over her shoulders in the curls Emily secretly preferred, and altogether she looked vibrant and beautiful. Emily reminded herself that Lorelai had given up a Saturday night to do this for her.

"I take it your gold lamé one was at the cleaners?" she asked, but for once her tone had more fondness in it than censure.

"Mom, it's summer. This is a summer color," Lorelai explained, her eyes rolling on their own.

"Look around, Lorelai. Do you see anyone else here in that _summer color_?"

Lorelai took her time looking around the room. "No, but then I'm probably two decades younger than the median age of those assembled in this room. Plus," she added, leaning towards her mother in confidence, "the septuagenarian taking names at the door told me I was the bees' knees, so I think I'm fine." She smiled, pleased at herself, as usual.

"Our table's over here," Emily said, moving over to it and conceding her acceptance of Lorelai's wardrobe.

"What's with the temperature?" Lorelai asked, pulling slightly at her sweater as the humidity sank in to her skin. "It's like a sauna in here!"

Emily groaned. "They've been promising me all day that it's going to be fixed. There's something wrong with a condenser or a coil or a generator—Oh, I don't know! I can't get a straight answer out of anyone, and believe me; I have tried to talk to anyone with a nametag on. They can't expect to retain business with these sorts of conditions! We had to book this facility months ago and now…" She broke off as she saw Lorelai tug at her sweater again. "Don't even think about it," she threatened, as she herself felt the need to wipe a bead of perspiration running down her neck from under her up-do.

Lorelai grimaced and looked around. "Food?" she asked, hopefully.

"They keep promising that, too," Emily muttered.

"No food?" Lorelai looked panicked. "I kind of skipped lunch today and had to run home and change and then drove here. I really need some food," she implored her mother.

Emily reared back her head, ready to once again put Lorelai in her place, but a sudden image of a toddler Lorelai begging for a cookie softened her. "I'll try to hurry up the hors d'oeuvres," she said. "In the meantime, go get a drink with lots of ice to cool down."

With a sigh, Lorelai made up way up to the bar. "Hi…Steve!" she said brightly to the young man behind the bar, after checking his nametag. He looked barely old enough to drink himself, and Lorelai suddenly felt very, very old, as though she fit in this room of people two decades older than herself. "I'd like a strawberry daiquiri big enough to bathe in, please."

An hour and a half later, Lorelai stumbled back up to Emily. It turned out that flirting with the bartender had unintended consequences, as he seemed to be doctoring her drinks with more booze and less heavenly slushy ice, which was really what she wanted.

Emily grabbed her arm. "Are you drunk?" she whispered furiously.

"Not on purpose!" Lorelai protested. "I'm hungry! And I'm hot!" she whined.

"Didn't you eat some of the appetizers?"

"No, I didn't! For a group with artificial hips and canes, they are amazingly light on their feet when the food came out. There was nothing left but some garnishes when I finally made it through the line!" Lorelai plopped down at the table, rummaging through her bag. She started twisting her curls up on her head and anchoring them with some bobby pins she'd found.

Her mother watched her, fascinated, as she was able to fix her hair so beautifully without a mirror. She meant to lecture her about how she shouldn't be touching her hair at the table, but was distracted by how pretty her daughter looked.

"How do you do that?" she asked, amazed. "Do you have any idea how much I pay someone to do this for me?" she added, pointing to her own head.

"Hmm. Maybe I should have been a hairdresser instead of a maid, huh?" Lorelai said, always knowing which buttons to push. She started to take her sweater off.

"Don't!" Emily said, threateningly.

"Mom, I'm suffocating! I can't stand it!"

Emily sighed. "Then go outside. There's a little courtyard just down the hall. We took pictures out there earlier. And…I'll try my best to get you something to eat."

"OK. Thanks," Lorelai mumbled, standing up with a little wobble on her high heels.

"And, Lorelai!" Emily grabbed her arm again. "Don't even think about going home. Do you promise me? You are in no condition to drive. If necessary, you'll spend the night with us, but you are not to leave here! Do you understand?"

Lorelai felt the familiar exasperation at her mother, but was also unexpectedly touched by her concern. "I won't go," she assured her, patting her hand awkwardly.

"All right, then," Emily nodded. "Go get some air."

"Air," Lorelai agreed. Air, she thought, as she floated down the hall, looking for the door to the promised courtyard. Cool, cool air…

But once outside in the small, enclosed area, the air was just as thick and damp as the ballroom inside.

"Damn," she muttered. She walked over to a small bench sitting against the railing. She stripped off the sweater and dropped it on the bench along with her purse. She was so hot! She could see tree branches swaying over the top of the fence. If there was just some way to get her head out there, where the air was…

She climbed up on the bench, trying to lean over far enough to catch the breeze. Her heels wobbled.

Suddenly, there was a voice at her shoulder. A low, gravelly, male voice. A voice she was well-acquainted with.

"You know," the voice was saying, "you're not a teenager anymore who has to sneak out of a window. If you don't like it here, you can just walk out the front door."

She turned to confirm it was who she thought it was, and the quick motion caused her heels to wobble dangerously again. Instantly his hands were on her hips, steadying her. She frantically tried to beat down all of the dirty Luke thoughts she'd had all day, and they listened to her and sank slowly southward in her body, giving an extra flush to her already-glowing face.

Luke helped her down off of the bench, a pleased look on his face. She wondered if she was hallucinating.

"Did my mother ask you here?" she blurted out.

Luke gave her the same quizzical look he always gave her when she spouted nonsense. "No," he finally said, looking amused.

"No, of course not," she agreed, noticing that he still hadn't taken his right hand off of her hip, or his left hand off of her arm from when he helped her down. She then noticed his white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up as far as they would go, his black dress pants, his smooth face and neatly combed hair, _sans_ baseball cap. Next she noticed her dry mouth and pounding heart.

"You look nice. Really nice. Good," she babbled, suddenly feeling breathless just from standing so close to him for this length of time. That was something that they took care to make sure never happened, normally.

Luke leaned even closer to her. "You look like a stick of cotton candy," he told her, his voice husky, letting his eyes roam over her slowly.

She felt her mouth drop open. This was not their regular banter.

"Well, it's a good thing you don't eat cotton candy, then," she retorted, trying to shock him back into his regular role.

Luke leaned in even closer, his hot breath hitting her ear. "Lorelai, you have no idea the things you could tempt me to do."

She gasped and reared her head back to look at his smug, handsome face. He gave her that grin, that same little-boy grin she'd seen in her afternoon fantasies. And she knew that events had been set in motion that she was going to be powerless to prevent.

That thought filled her with a thrilling happiness from the top of her sweating head to the tips of her scrunched up toes in her black stiletto heels.

* * *

><p>Denny Davis and Luke Danes had been friends since first grade at Stars Hollow Elementary School when they had been lined up alphabetically the first day. They were the tallest boys in the room and soon found out they had a lot in common.<p>

At recess, Denny looked at Luke warily and said, "Fish?"

"Yeah," Luke replied, looking across the playground.

Several minutes passed. "Jungle gym?" Luke asked, jerking his shoulder at the metal bars.

"OK," Denny said, and the two of them headed off, beginning the start of their friendship based on few words.

Over the years they did Cub Scouts together and played on lots of softball teams. In junior high Denny's family moved away but returned at the start of sophomore year in high school. They both ran track. In their senior year Denny finally got up the nerve to ask out Cindy Brunsfield, and Luke and Rachel double-dated with them a lot. Luke was a groomsman when they got married. Denny and Cindy moved to Woodbury. Rachel left for the first time shortly thereafter. Denny came to get Luke, and they went out drinking. Cindy decided she really didn't want to be married. Luke went and got Denny, and they went out drinking. Rachel came back. Rachel left. More drinking. Rachel came and went, came and went. The last time he hadn't even bothered calling Denny with the news. It wasn't like they called each other all that often, anymore. They tried to catch a few hockey or baseball games during the year, but they weren't like Lorelai and Sookie, who called each other every time they found a new color of nail polish, or anything.

So it was a surprise when Luke received an invitation to Denny's second wedding because he hadn't even heard of this woman, Brooke, whose name was on the invitation. Feeling guilty at being so out of touch with his friend's life, he RSVP'ed immediately.

That was how he found himself on this hot, hot August evening, his hand on the door of the Silver Ballroom at the Hyatt in downtown Hartford. He'd sat through their wedding earlier at an impressive church a few blocks away, and now he felt obligated to attend their reception, where he would undoubtedly feel awkwardly out-of-place.

"Brooke, Brooke," he mumbled to himself before pulling open the door. He had a fear of calling her Cindy without thinking.

He shook hands with Denny's parents, who were standing close to the door, telling them what a beautiful wedding it had been. Since they hadn't been in Stars Hollow for awhile, they asked him for updates on some of the town's characters, and they were soon laughing at Luke's deadpan quips about recent events.

Denny came up and clapped him on the back. "Glad you could come, man!"

"Wouldn't miss it," Luke told him.

"Come get a drink," Denny urged, leading him towards the bar.

"Geez, Denny, why's it so hot in here?" Luke asked, tugging at his collar. "It's like a sauna in here," he added, unaware that he was mirroring another Stars Hollow resident's comment in the ballroom next door.

"Yeah, what a day for the air conditioning to fail, huh?" Denny explained, sympathetically. "They say they're going to bring some industrial-size fans in here. Brooke's ready to have their heads, but apparently there's some snobby society dame next door pitching an even bigger fit, so they're bending over backwards to make us more comfortable. Just hang on," he encouraged.

Luke asked for a beer. The bartender handed it to him, Luke took a swig, noticing that Denny was nervously still standing beside him. He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Uh, here's the thing," Denny said, fidgeting, putting his hands in his pockets. "You clean up pretty good, you know." Luke continued to stare at him, and Denny gave a nervous chuckle. "Brooke's noticed." Luke's eyebrows shot up further in disbelief. "No, no, no!" Denny laughed, swatting at him. "She's stuck with me. But," he gave a heavy sigh. "She has lots of friends, Luke. Lots of single friends. You get what I mean?"

Luke groaned. He thought he did.

"So, most guys might not mind that lots of pretty girls with one thing on their minds are going to be sent his way tonight, but I know you…and I'm sorry, OK?"

Luke sighed, and glared at him.

"Yeah, I know it's rough, being all handsome and available," Denny teased him. "I should know. That was my life, until just recently."

"Hi, Denny!" a female voice fluttered at him.

"Uh, hi, uh, Tracey!" Denny floundered. He turned to Luke, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "This is Luke. Luke, this is Tracey, she's one of Brooke's friends."

"Nice to meet you," Luke said in resignation to the woman, trying not to look at what Lorelai would have called the huge 'butt bow' on the back of her bridesmaid dress. Why did women do that to each other?

"Drink up," Denny advised him softly, giving him a cuff on the shoulder as he left to circulate through the rest of the guests and find his new wife. _Poor Luke_, he thought, looking back at his friend trying to make stiff conversation with Tracey. _I guess he's still hung up on Rachel. What a shame_.

An hour and a half later, Luke wondered if he'd put in enough time to call it a night. The staff had brought in fans, and it had helped to circulate the warm air around, but it was still uncomfortable with so many people in the room. Dinner had been served, but the cake had yet to be cut. The band was starting to play. Luke, along with most of the rest of the gentlemen in attendance, had removed his suit coat and tie. It was just too damn hot to be proper.

He struggled to his feet and was aghast to see that the room spun a bit as he straightened up. He was drunk? He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten drunk. He also couldn't remember exactly how many drinks he'd consumed. Going back to the bar for another drink had seemed like a good way to end all of the awkward conversations with all of the pushy women Brooke kept sending his way. Not to mention he was seated with three of them at the table. He'd let the waiter refill his wine glass every time he passed by, and hell, he didn't even_ like_ wine.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, he chastised himself. Now what?

He walked cautiously through the ballroom and out the door. He walked up and down the hallway a few times, judging his sobriety. He wasn't too bad, he thought. Then he reconsidered: If Jess had had this much to drink, would he want him to get behind the wheel?

Sighing, he made his way over to the registration desk. Good thing I'm in a hotel, he thought snidely.

A few minutes later he was pocketing a plastic room key. He headed back to the reception but then paused, not really wanting to go back in and face having to dance with all of Brooke's friends, or come up with excuses _not_ to dance with Brooke's friends.

What is wrong with you? His mind thundered at himself. He turned abruptly and stalked down the hall. Most guys would love the position you're in tonight. What would be so bad about getting to know any of those women?

His brain instantly started ticking off all of the reasons he wouldn't like it: They didn't have sparkling blue eyes; they didn't toss their hair right; they didn't talk nonsense a mile a minute; they didn't have daughters named Rory…

Stop, stop, stop! He begged himself. She's not the only woman in the world! Are you seriously never going to even try to get close to anyone else just because of her? Are you honestly going to be content to go on like this, because she's never going to notice you, man! If you had half a brain, you'd go back into that room right now and write down some of those numbers and make a start!

The problem was, he realized, he just didn't feel anything for anyone else. Lorelai had spoiled him for anyone else. It didn't matter how pretty or curvy or personable any other woman was, she wasn't Lorelai. He swore he could feel sparks hitting him as soon as she opened the door to the diner. Why couldn't she feel them, too?

Dejectedly he leaned against a door in the hallway. Looking out, he realized it led out into some sort of little park. Thinking some fresh air might help to clear his head, Luke pushed open the door and stepped out.

He ambled around the small pathway and there, up on a bench, assaulting every male hormone he had, was a delicious hot-pink rump, bouncing on top of long, long legs encased in some of the tallest black heels he'd ever seen.

Luke sucked in a breath and stared, letting the sexy vision fill his eyes. Then, because he wasn't _that_ guy, he turned away, but not before filing away the image for some private recollection later.

Suddenly it hit him with a thrill: He felt a sexual attraction to this unknown woman! It wasn't Lorelai, and for once, he felt something!

Then, before he could congratulate himself too much, his internal tricorder started taking readings and he soon shut his eyes in defeat. He didn't know the hows or the whys, but he knew, without doubt, whose luscious hot-pink ass that was.

He turned and walked over to her slowly, first in resignation, then in growing excitement that she was here. He started to chuckle softly as he took in her apparent attempt to climb over the fence.

"You know," he said as he walked up to her, "you're not a teenager anymore who has to sneak out of a window. If you don't like it here, you can just walk out the front door."

He'd startled her and she turned quickly, wobbling dangerously on those sexy, impractical heels. Without thought he reached up to steady her, his hands feeling hot on the satin encasing her hips. He helped her down off of the bench, and seemed unable to remove his hands from her. She felt so good, and looked so good. His eyes couldn't take in all of the bare goodness of her neck and shoulders and –Oh, Lord!―her chest that was exposed since all of her curls were twisted up on her head. He seemed to be having trouble swallowing.

"Did my mother ask you here?" Lorelai asked from out of nowhere.

"No," he laughed. What a silly question, but so typically Lorelai!

"No, of course not," she mumbled, seeming to suddenly focus clearly on him. "You look nice. Really nice. Good," she babbled in that nervous, endearing way she had, bobbing her head with her words.

Luke let his hand slide around some on her shiny hip, and for once said exactly what he was thinking: "You look like a stick of cotton candy." It came out in a much sexier tone than he'd actually intended, and he saw the momentary shock on her face.

"Well, it's a good thing you don't eat cotton candy then," she shot back at him, and he knew she was trying to regain the upper hand, trusting him to step back and maintain their status quo.

But he wasn't in the mood for the dance they normally did with each other. Tonight he was just tired of waiting for it to be his turn. Tonight he was ready to go for broke.

"Lorelai," he told her, this time letting all of his desire flow out with the words, "you have no idea the things you could tempt me to do."

He watched transfixed as her face slowly moved from shock to that bright smile that lit up her whole face from within. That smile that was hers alone, that shone out through her eyes and made him fall in love with her in the first place.

For the first time, he felt things just might go his way.

* * *

><p>Lorelai made it inside her house, her very own, dear, beloved Crap Shack, and leaned up against the door gratefully. She bent down and pulled off her shoes again, starting to slog over to the stairs.<p>

"Mom!" Rory called to her from the kitchen.

Startled, Lorelai dropped her shoes on the stairs and changed direction, heading now for the kitchen. She saw Rory at the table, neatly dressed, a book spread in front of her and her backpack on the floor beside her.

Lorelai rubbed her forehead in confusion, thinking she'd stumbled into some sort of time warp.

"It's summer," she said, insistently. "It's summer, and it's a Sunday!"

Rory looked up, frowning, but being Lorelai's daughter, quickly understood her mother's confusion.

"Right, but Paris is insisting we meet today for a Franklin meeting before she leaves for a two-week vacation, remember? And early morning was her only available time, remember? And…well, you've met Paris, right?"

"Right, right," Lorelai murmured, her head clearing slightly.

"And then, since I'll be in Hartford, I'm going to the library, and then tonight, Dean's taking me out to dinner. Remember?" she prodded her mother.

"Hartford," Lorelai said, the word sticking in her throat a little bit.

"Where you just were, right!" Rory said, pleased. "So I guess you had more fun than you thought last night, huh?"

Lorelai winced. "Ah, Rory, uh, about last night…I'm really sorry, kid."

"Why?" Rory asked, befuddled.

"I'm not being a real good example, here," Lorelai mumbled nervously.

"Mom! Don't be silly! Of course you are!" As Lorelai looked even more ashamed, Rory continued. "Look. You knew you had too much to drink, right? So you did the right thing. You called me and stayed at the hotel and didn't try to drive. I say you gave a perfect example of how to handle the situation."

Lorelai fought the urge to bang her head against the table at her daughter's take on her less-than-stellar behavior.

"I called?" she said, doubtfully.

Rory laughed. "You don't remember? Man, you must have been wasted! You sounded happy, if that helps!" she teased. "Did you do something slutty?"

Lorelai's brain suddenly flashed on her quick call to Rory, while Luke was in the bathroom. And then he'd come out, and she'd closed the phone, and they'd…

"Mom?" Rory questioned, bringing her back abruptly. "Did you have fun?"

"More than I expected," Lorelai answered, truthfully. "But the air conditioning was out and I drank more than I should have to cool down, and all of the old people snarfed down the food…I'm really sorry, Rory."

"OK," Rory said quietly, cocking her head to study her mom. She couldn't quite put her finger on what was off with her, and it wasn't just a hangover. "Well, I need to get going," she said, standing up and gathering her things. "You'll be OK?"

"Sure, I'm fine," Lorelai said. "I just need to get a shower and head for work." Amazingly, she did feel fine. Apparently lots and lots of hot sex was a good cure for too much to drink.

"Not going to go to Luke's for hangover pancakes?" Rory asked.

Lorelai gulped at the mention of Luke's name. "No, not today," she tried to say lightly.

"OK, then," Rory said, giving her mom a quick hug. "Huh," she said thoughtfully, breathing deeply.

"What?" Lorelai asked, alarmed, as Rory sniffed her.

"There's just a smell…" Rory said, stiff sniffing.

"I smell?" Lorelai said, trying to joke.

"No, no, there's just a scent…I can't place it," Rory's forehead crinkled in concentration. "And it's so familiar. I should know what it is. It's like when you get a song in your head, you know? What do they call it? An ear worm? I guess if it's a scent it'd be a nose worm, huh?"

"Eww. Gross," Lorelai shuddered.

"Yeah!" Rory laughed. "You'll be home tonight, right, missy?" she said sternly to her mother.

"I'll probably work late to make up for this morning, but I'll be here!" she promised Rory.

She watched her daughter leave and then took herself upstairs to shower and change, resolutely trying not to think about Luke. Or any part of his body.

That turned out to be a losing proposition.

* * *

><p>"So, if my mother didn't lure you here, what are you doing here?" Lorelai asked Luke, still smiling her bright smile.<p>

Luke had removed his hand from her hip, realizing belatedly that was a little too forward. His other hand he kept on her arm however, and let his thumb rub soft circles on her skin right above her elbow.

"A friend of mine got married today, so I'm here at the reception," he explained.

"Aw, that's nice," Lorelai cooed.

Luke scoffed.

"It's not nice?" Lorelai questioned, her face doubting him.

"Oh, yeah, it's great if you like sweating like you're in the tropics and pushy, pushy girls."

Lorelai's eyebrows rose. "Luke,_ I'm_ a pushy, pushy girl," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but you're _my_ pushy, pushy girl," he said without thinking, and Lorelai's smile grew even bigger. "I'm used to you."

Lorelai leaned closer. "Do I need to come with you and protect you from the pushy, pushy girls?"

"That would be great!" he sighed with satisfaction, but then he frowned and looked towards the door. "But where are you supposed to be?"

Lorelai pouted and rolled her eyes. "At this stupid fundraiser my mother shanghaied me for tonight. It's for birds…that sing…or fly…or something," she shrugged, suddenly having a difficult time remembering details. "But there's no food," she added, her voice taking on the whiny quality Luke was very familiar with, "and it's so hot in there!"

Luke's face broke out in a grin as he realized who the 'snobby society dame' was who was turning the hotel staff against her.

"We have food," he said enticingly to Lorelai. "And big, huge fans."

"You win," Lorelai nodded. "I'm comin' with you."

He watched as she picked up her things and started to totter towards the door. "Wait," he said, his hand pulling at her arm again. "Won't your mom wonder where you are?"

Lorelai groaned, frustrated. "Yeah, and she's actually been kinda nice tonight," she grumbled. "I'm actually kinda drunk," she admitted, shooting her eyes quickly to Luke, then looking back away. "I didn't mean to be! Steve just keeps putting more booze in my drinks. And did I mention there's no food?"

"Steve?" Luke hated the way jealousy instantly shot through his chest.

"Bartender," she explained, not picking up on the jealousy thing. "Hey! I know," she said brightly, tapping his chest. "Why don't you come with me, and fix the air conditioner thingy, and then my mother will love you forever!" She laughed at her plan.

"Well…" he said slowly, "I don't think your mother would ever love me, no matter how many things I could fix, and I don't have Bert with me, and, truthfully," here he sighed, "I'm actually kinda drunk, too."

"You?" Lorelai gaped at him. "You never get drunk! You won't even sip Patty's punch!"

"Yeah, well, tonight getting drunk seemed like a good plan."

"Hmm." Lorelai eyed him speculatively. "Well, come on. Let's go tell her I'm going with you. And just ignore any sort of insin―insin― insin-u-ations she might make, OK?" she ordered, finally getting the hard word out in pieces.

"What insinuations?" Luke questioned, but Lorelai didn't answer as she concentrated on pulling him down the hall.

Once inside the ballroom, Luke studied the other guests as Lorelai guided them towards her mother. "Geez, did your mother raid a nursing home tonight?"

Lorelai giggled. "I know! But stay out of their way if there's food! They're surprisingly spry when it comes to buffet lines!" she commented softly to Luke. "Mom!" she said, in a normal voice to Emily, having reached her.

Emily turned, her face showing surprise to see that Lorelai was with someone. She sighed in defeat, seeing that the sweater was now off. She glared suspiciously at Luke, waiting for Lorelai to say something.

"Mom, you remember Luke, right?" Lorelai said brightly.

"It's really nice to see you again, Mrs. Gilmore," Luke said as pleasantly as he could, standing up as straight as possible.

Emily quirked an eyebrow briefly, but otherwise didn't let on how shocked she was that this handsomely-groomed man was the scruffy diner-owner she'd met in the past.

"Good evening, Luke," she managed to say.

"Luke's here for a friend's wedding reception," Lorelai explained. "They're just down the hall."

"How nice." Emily smiled thinly. "Was it a pretty wedding?" she asked politely.

"Well, it wasn't the Romanov's," Luke said, "but since it's summer, I guess that wouldn't have been appropriate, anyway."

Emily smiled more genuinely. "No, I guess not."

Lorelai's finger poked him in the ribs, and Luke squirmed away from her. "I was wondering if it would be OK with you if Lorelai joined me in there."

"They have food," Lorelai added. "And fans!"

Emily looked doubtfully at Lorelai's bare shoulders and the tipsy grin on her face, but then she looked at Luke's solid frame and she remembered the obvious affection he held for her daughter. He'd take care of her, she knew, or die trying.

"Very well," she agreed. "Guests are starting to leave this disaster, anyway."

Lorelai gave out a little whoop and started to pull Luke away. "Thanks, Mom!"

"Luke, wait!" Emily said urgently, putting her hand on his other arm. They stopped, and Luke looked at her questioningly.

She dropped her hand and her eyes to the carpet, briefly, before meeting Luke's gaze. "Lorelai shouldn't be driving tonight. Will you make sure she gets home safely?"

"Of course I will," Luke said automatically.

"You're still welcome to spend the night with us," she reminded Lorelai.

"OK, thanks!" Lorelai said again, waving as she started to pull Luke away, this time without protest.

Out in the hall, she smacked his arm. "How did you do that? How did you sober up so fast? You're just as drunk as I am!"

He rubbed his arm. "I'll tell you my secret," he offered, and Lorelai bent closer to him. "Your mom scares the crap out of me!"

Lorelai laughed delightedly, and rubbed his arm where she'd hit him. "That's OK," she told him, confidentially. "She scares everyone!" She tucked her arm under Luke's. "Now, take me in to do battle with those pushy, pushy girls!"

* * *

><p>The ever-bubbly Sookie St. James Belleville sprang into action as she saw her best friend and tardy business partner-to-be enter through her kitchen door. Instantly Sookie was in front of her, a spoon poised at Lorelai's lips.<p>

"Try this!" she demanded, her dimples showing as she tried to evade Lorelai's defensive hand.

"What is that?" Lorelai asked, feeling herself turn a little green at the smell.

"Beef stroganoff," Sookie replied, as if it was obvious.

"Sookie, I cannot eat beef stroganoff at …whatever time it is. For the love of God, get it away from me."

"Oh!" Sookie paused and considered Lorelai thoughtfully. "That's right; you were out last night, at one of your mother's fancy things. Oh! Were there dancing midgets?"

Lorelai had to smile a little. "No, no dancing midgets."

Sookie came a little closer. "Did you have a good time?"

Lorelai tried very hard to keep the smile off of her face, with limited success. "It was OK," she tried to say noncommittally.

Sookie pounced on the mysterious smile. "You," she proclaimed, waving a ladle for emphasis, "did something slutty! Spill! I want details, since I am now a proper married lady and will never have any exploits of my own to brag about. Tell me everything!"

"Sookie, really, it was just a boring charity thing," Lorelai said desperately.

"I don't think so," Sookie said, regarding Lorelai seriously. Her laughter then pealed out. "I think you met some handsome stranger and had a rendezvous! Or, no, I know! You met a rich sugar daddy, and he's promised you diamonds and he's going to front us the money for our own inn! That's it!"

"I can assure you that there was no one at my mother's thing last night young enough to physically be able to handle a 'rendezvous'," Lorelai retorted.

"Well, they have those pills now…"

"Sookie, I beg you, don't go there!"

Sookie stirred quietly for a moment, watching Lorelai pour herself a cup of coffee.

"Something happened, though, didn't it?" She had been friends with Lorelai for so long now that she recognized all the signs. She was sensing some regrets; some second thoughts. "Was it someone I know?" she teased. Her eyes opened wide as she saw Lorelai's back stiffen.

Lorelai turned to Sookie with her face carefully set. "Long night," she said. "Lots to drink. Head jumbled. Please let me get through the day, OK?" She smiled pleadingly at Sookie.

"OK," Sookie agreed. "But if it was slutty, I still want details when you feel better!"

Lorelai smiled and raised her coffee cup in salute as she headed out of the kitchen towards her office. She knew from past experience how determined Sookie could be in trying to worm things out of her. But this time, there was no chance. Luke would kill her if Sookie got even a whiff of what they did last night.

* * *

><p>Luke took Lorelai's hand as he pulled open the door, ushering her inside. She gave his hand a little squeeze as she smiled at him as she entered the reception. Part of her brain noticed that they seemed to be doing an awful lot of touching. They'd never really touched before, had they? But they were friends, and it was OK to touch your friends, wasn't it? In any case, the touching felt really good. <em>Really<em> good. There really wasn't anything wrong in touching him, was there?

She decided to be Scarlett O'Hara and just worry about that another day.

"Ooooh!" she moaned in appreciation as the blast from the fan hit her. She stood in front of it, legs and arms spread wide, giggling as the air buffeted her.

Luke watched, swallowing hard, while the wind from the fan loosened some of the curls around her face. She was just so damn cute. She was always gorgeous, always sexy, but when she added the cute thing on top of that she was just irresistible. He tried to get himself under control.

"Come on," he said gruffly, pulling her away as he spotted Denny.

Denny stopped and turned as he heard Luke call his name. He tried not to look shocked as he took in the sexy creature holding Luke's hand. How had he overlooked this friend of Brooke's?

"Denny, I wanted you to meet my friend Lorelai, from Stars Hollow," he started.

Denny's eyes widened. He'd heard Luke mention Lorelai for years, but somehow the fact that she was drop-dead gorgeous had never come up. Knowing she had a teenaged kid, Denny had always pictured someone matronly, like in insurance ads. Things started to click into place for him.

_So it's not Rachel_, he thought, automatically greeting Lorelai.

"Congratulations on getting the good room, with the fans and the food," Lorelai told him, brightly. Her smile nearly knocked him backwards. "Congratulations on the wedding, too. And on getting this one, here, out for the evening! It's rare that Jeremiah Johnson makes a public appearance!" She patted Luke's arm fondly, belying her teasing.

Denny liked her instantly. "He even shaved," he pointed out to Lorelai, nodding towards Luke.

"I know! It's probably going to throw his grooming schedule off for the rest of the month!" She acted like Luke wasn't there.

"OK, already," Luke grumped. "Denny, she's stuck in the room next door. Is it OK if she joins us in here?"

"Sure, Luke, you were always welcome to bring a _date_," he said mildly, but emphasizing the date part to see Luke squirm. "Make yourself at home," he told Lorelai.

"Ooh, I will, right in front of the fans!"

"Well, have a good time," Denny said, pleasantly enough, but fixing Luke with a look that removed all doubt about what he really meant, as he walked off to find Brooke and let her know that this matchmaking attempt was finished.

"Let's find you some food," Luke said.

They started across the room, dodging groups caught up in loud conversations over the dance music blaring through the air. Suddenly Lorelai stopped in her tracks.

"Oh, Luke," she breathed out, in awe. "This is beautiful."

She was stopped in front of a coffee table, complete with multiple thermal pitchers and every conceivable item that could possibly be combined with coffee. The table was swirled with glittery tulle and tiny lights, while peach rose petals rubbed up against the offerings.

"It's too hot," Luke observed.

"I want this," she moaned, dreamily. "When I get married, I want this to be the theme. Will you make the coffee when I get married, Luke?"

"You have someone in mind?" he asked curtly.

"Yes," she answered, steadily. "I figure I can make Johnny Depp forget all about that girlfriend he's been shacked up with in France for years. Do you think he drinks coffee?"

"Only if all the rum's gone."

"Why, Luke, you've seen a movie," Lorelai praised him, right before a companion thought made her heart beat harder in an emotion she refused to dignify with the term jealousy. "Who did you see it with?"

"My secret girlfriend, of course," he deadpanned. Much to his surprise, Lorelai turned stricken eyes to him before looking away. "Jess," he said quickly. "We went in the middle of the afternoon so no one would see the cool kid going to the movies with his uncle."

She gave a nod, but still didn't look convinced. He chuckled in disbelief. "You honestly think I could be seeing someone and the gossips in Stars Hollow wouldn't be shouting it from the rooftops? You live next door to Babette, for cryin' out loud!"

"You could have another Elle McPherson up there, for all I know," Lorelai said grumpily.

"Who?" Luke asked, although he actually knew who that was, and also surmised what Lorelai was getting at.

"It's just, you're secretive about stuff," Lorelai still sounded put-out. "I ramble on about everything. I'm an open book, and you don't share anything. You could be living with someone in Litchfield for all I know!" She was appalled to feel tears stinging her eyes, as though it was a real possibility.

Luke scoffed. "Yeah, I think you beating down my door looking for coffee three times a week at 10:30 might give that away. Besides, you never tell me anything about the guys you date!" He steeled himself to ask. "Are you?"

Lorelai paused. "Dating someone?" she clarified.

"Yes," he nodded, holding his breath.

She tilted her head defiantly. "No." She waited a beat. "Are you?"

"No." He gave her the same defiant look.

They glared at each other for a few more moments, neither quite sure what had just happened.

"Um, let's get you some food," Luke suggested nervously.

"Food sounds good," Lorelai agreed.

"When doesn't it sound good," Luke muttered, but led her to the table still filled with canapés and all sorts of munchables.

Lorelai filled a plate happily, crooning seductively to all the little appetizers about what she was going to do them when she got them back to the table. Luke rolled his eyes, knowing it was useless to try and stop her.

The only seat available at his table, when they neared it, was the one he had vacated, his suit jacket still hanging from the back. He started to look for another chair, or somewhere else to sit when Lorelai pressed her hip against him, stopping him.

"So are those the pushy, pushy girls?" she asked as softly as could with the blaring music, motioning towards the table.

"Yeah," Luke sighed.

"And you're sure you want them to leave you alone?"

"More than I want a Kirk-free morning," Luke assured her.

That pleased, 'I'm planning something evil' look fastened itself on Lorelai's face, and Luke had second thoughts. "Then just leave it to me," she told him, continuing on to the table.

Once they reached it Lorelai sat down her plate and pushed Luke down into his chair at the same time. She then plopped herself down across his lap as if it was something she did all the time. He instantly put his hand along her side to hold her steady, even though his mind was frantic from her closeness and her heat and the unimaginable thrill of her weight on his legs. He stared at her bare neck right in front of him, with the little curls wisping their way down it, and her perfume invading his senses, and he willed himself to not even _think_ about letting his mouth follow those curls.

"Hi!" she said brightly to everyone at the table.

Luke made the best introductions he could, considering that his mind was really not on good manners right at the moment.

Lorelai started to inhale her food, as per normal. She paused momentarily, twisting herself around to pop a grape tomato into his mouth that she had picked up accidentally. As she used her thumb to wipe under his bottom lip, both Beth and Amy, the girls to the right and left of him, decided they needed to go to the ladies' room.

Luke concentrated on not sucking that thumb into his mouth. He alternately praised God that he was still sober enough to control his actions and cursed that same sobriety.

Stephanie, the curvy redhead seated directly across from him, wasn't ready to concede defeat yet. She asked question after question of Lorelai, prying out as much information as she could.

Luke had expected Lorelai to assume another persona, Mimi, maybe, but to his surprise she stayed herself, answering Stephanie's intrusive questions with good-natured replies; telling her about Stars Hollow and Rory, and all of the many, many times Luke had come to their rescue through the years.

"You guys are really good friends, aren't you?" Stephanie asked wistfully.

Lorelai leaned her head back to rest against Luke's. "The best, aren't we, Snookums?" she asked playfully, bringing her hand up to cradle his cheek.

"You bet." Luke meant for the words to come out as dry sarcasm, but instead his voice turned husky with emotion, and his other arm tightened around Lorelai's waist, drawing her closer to him in a squeezing motion that looked and felt like a hug.

Lorelai turned her face to him more fully, her eyes unblinking and holding her breath, wondering if this was finally going to be _it_.

"Well," Stephanie sighed, pushing away from the table and breaking the mood, "I really envy you. That is truly hard to find. And I should know; I've been looking for years."

As Stephanie walked away, Luke loosened his hold on Lorelai because he was now supremely self-conscious of their positions. Lorelai dropped her hand from his face and looked down at the table.

"You want more food?" he asked instantly, hoping for a diversion.

"No, I'm good," she answered, pressing her hands against the table to stop them from snaking their way back to Luke's chest.

_I bet you are!_ he found himself thinking. Desperate to shift his mind away, anywhere but there, he shot to his feet, nearly dumping Lorelai to the floor.

"Let's dance," he practically ordered, before she could put her protest of his abrupt movements into words. That shocked her into silence. Her mouth dropped open and she pointed at him in disbelief, her eyes sparkling.

"Yes, I asked you to dance," he confirmed, with his usual eye-roll. "It's not that big a deal."

"Oh, I beg to differ there, Mr.-I-Hate-All-Forms-of-Public-Prancing," Lorelai teased. She took his arm and attempted to drag him towards the dance floor. "And you can't get out of it now. You've asked the fair lady for this dance, and you, sir, are going to dance!"

Luke took her hand in his, and put his hand, properly, on her waist, as his mother and Miss Patty had instructed him, many, many years ago. He waited for the beat and started to move them around the floor. He couldn't remember ever feeling more awkward in his life.

Lorelai worked to free her hand from his grip. She then slid it up his arm, gently squeezing his bicep and then his shoulder, as she brought it to rest behind his neck. Her other hand joined the first, and her fingers lightly stroked the back of his head and neck.

She smiled.

He brought his hands to the small of her back and applied gentle pressure, bringing her closer to him.

He smiled back.

They imperceptibly shifted closer to each other as the song progressed. Their smiles faded as their breathing started to hitch in their chests. Awkwardness was long gone. It was in Canada, ready to send them a postcard.

"You're just full of surprises," Lorelai murmured into his ear, because that's where her face was now, right next to his.

"You have no idea," Luke murmured back, stopping his lips just before they brushed her cheek.

Lorelai tilted her head just enough to look at him. "Why didn't you?"

"Why didn't I what?" Luke flustered.

"That night, in the diner."

"Oh, well, that narrows it down," he drawled.

"Picking out the paint, behind the counter." She waited for him to reply, and when he didn't, she decided to let her alcohol-loosened tongue just go with it. "You wanted to kiss me," she whispered with conviction into his ear. "Why didn't you do it?"

Luke sucked in a breath as the shock of it made him feel as though the floor was falling out from under him. "Wasn't sure if you wanted me to," he finally managed to stutter out.

They had stopped dancing, and were standing, their arms holding each others' bodies close, their eyes holding each others' thoughts closer.

"I guess there's only one way to find out," Lorelai challenged him, her arms tightening around him even more.

He brought one hand up to cup her face, searching her eyes to see if this was really what she wanted. He leaned forward, and let his lips touch hers.

There, see, that was fine, he congratulated himself a few moments later. You kissed her, and it was fine. The earth didn't stop; life goes on. You've just made it into a much bigger deal all these years than it actually was.

Slowly he came to realize that he and Lorelai were basically holding each other up while they struggled to catch their breath. Her right hand had a death grip on the back of his head, and his heart was pounding louder than the beat of the music. He held her possessively. Her face was flushed, her eyes unfocused and her mouth looked kissed. Very much kissed.

He looked up to see nearby couples eyeing them speculatively, either with smirking amusement or thinly-veiled condemnation. He was starting to get a clue that it had been more than just a kiss.

"Cake!" He practically shouted the word at her, snapping her out of her kiss-induced coma, tugging her off the dance floor.

"You want cake?" she asked stupidly. She was having trouble making her mouth work, although she seemed to recall it was working just fine several moments before. It was just those things—whatdya call 'em?—words, that were giving her trouble.

"_You_ want cake," Luke said confidently. He was hoping that eating cake would give them a chance to assimilate whatever had just happened. Plus, just sitting down in general would probably be a good idea, since he felt as though he had just finished running a track relay.

Lorelai followed Luke obediently, because, well, _cake_, but she was miffed that he apparently was trying to ignore that tsunami of a kiss they'd just shared. Seriously, if they rated kisses like tornadoes, that was an F-5. No cheap little belt from J.C. Penney's would be able to hold them down to the ground in the midst of that.

"What kind do you want?" Luke asked, his arm sweeping over the slices presented in front of them. He glanced quickly at Lorelai but was too nervous to look at her directly. What was she thinking now, about him? Had those few moments of unguarded desire ruined things between them?

The sight of all that cake spread in front of her momentarily distracted Lorelai from her building irritation at Luke. "Well, I don't know," she sighed, weighing her choices. "There's chocolate, and I love chocolate, but there's just something about white wedding cake that's so perfect. I mean, it just doesn't really seem like wedding cake unless it's white, you know? But on the other hand, _hello,_ chocolate! Sometimes it's the same way with birthday cake. All of those flavors are great, but there's just something so pure about white birthday cake, especially if you get one of the big icing roses on top of it, that just can't compare to anything else—"

Rolling his eyes at her indecision, Luke grabbed a slice of white cake and shoved it in her hands. He then picked up a slice of chocolate and nudged her towards a now-empty table. He turned a chair slightly out and motioned for Lorelai to sit. He then pulled out the one next to it and sat down himself, so that they were facing each other with their knees nearly touching.

Lorelai wasted no time in getting a forkful into her mouth. She gave one of those little moans Luke was used to hearing from the diner, when she really needed coffee, or the burger was just right, or the pie was boysenberry. He realized he'd just heard it back on the dance floor, too.

Her eyelids fluttered as she licked the fork. "Good choice," she muttered happily to him. "White was definitely the way to go." She stopped, shocked, as she saw Luke prepare a bite of cake on his own fork. "_You're_ eating cake?" she squeaked.

"No," he said shortly, holding the bite to her lips. "This just seemed like the smart way to solve your dilemma, since I had no desire to stand in front of the cake table for the rest of the evening."

Lorelai smiled, and her eyes turned smoky, and she leaned forward slightly to take the bite into her mouth. Luke gulped, feeling the vibrations in his hand from her mouth's movement. She looked at him through her lashes. Suddenly, feeding her cake didn't seem like the smartest thing to do.

He stared at her lips, watching as her tongue came out to lick off a smudge of icing. His hand, still holding out the fork, was shaking a little. With a start, he looked back down at the plate, and forced his hand to ready another bite.

Little pieces of the kiss were starting to filter back to him. Her mouth, so warm—no, hot, opening under his. So sweet, just as he always suspected she'd taste. And her body—God, that body! Pressed up against him, fitting perfectly, making every contact point he'd ever imagined. And then his hand had dipped a little lower on her back, pressing her closer, and she'd made that moan, surging up against him, and he'd nearly lost all control.

He pulled in a sharp breath and his eyes jumped to hers. Hers twinkled at him, and her mouth had a smug little smile on it. "It was good, wasn't it?" she asked, and he didn't think he'd ever heard anything so sexy.

Without any direction from his brain he sat the plate down on the table and leaned towards her, his one hand running along her leg with his finger stoking the skin under the slit on her thigh, the other raising up to cradle and caress her face. "So good," he agreed, barely able to get the words out. "So incredibly good."

"You wanna do it again?" she asked saucily.

"Oh, yeah," he agreed fervently, taking the plate from her hands. "Oh, hell, yeah." He pulled her up and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they unsteadily made their way back to the dance floor.

This time there wasn't any awkwardness in trying to find a dance position. Their bodies knew this time just how to fit together.

Lorelai moaned again into his ear as his hands pressed into her lower back, ramping up the heat of their desire into a bonfire.

Lorelai knew that there was probably some sort of speech she should be giving herself, about how this was Luke, and they were in public, and she should be controlling this situation, but frankly, she was too far gone to care. This was _Luke_ and he was perfect, and if she was being honest with herself—for the first time in how many years?—this was exactly what she'd always wanted. So she opened her eyes, and looked into his, and moved her lips fractionally, (thank God for her impractical high heels, bringing her face up to exactly where it needed to be) and their second kiss exploded right into where the first one had ended.

There was a third kiss, and there would have been a fourth, and a fifth, leading to infinity and beyond, but abruptly Denny was there with his hands on their shoulders, gently breaking them apart.

"Um," he started, chuckling nervously, "we were, uh, trying to keep the rating at the reception at PG-13, but it looks like you guys are seriously flirting with the NC-17 thing."

"Geez, Denny, sorry!" Luke gasped out, embarrassed beyond belief, trying to rein himself in. He glanced at Lorelai, trying to read her expression.

She was clutching his arm, her fingers busily kneading the muscles underneath. She was concentrating on the fact that she was _kneading_ his arm because of how very much she _needed_ other parts of him. She fought back the urge to giggle. Luke probably would not be amused at her ongoing word games right now.

She looked at Denny and tried to process what he was saying. "Sorry," she said, since that's what Luke had said, although she wasn't sorry at all. She smiled at Denny and leaned into Luke. "We'll behave."

Denny shook his head slowly as he stared at the smitten Lorelai. He turned to Luke, hoping that his normally down-to-earth friend would still have enough sanity left to hear him.

"You two need to go somewhere private," he said quietly, into Luke's ear. "You don't really want to be doing this on the dance floor, do you?"

_Yes!_ Luke's brain thundered. _Yes, I do! Right here, right now!_

"No, of course not," he muttered to Denny, chastised. "Sorry if we made a scene."

"It's OK," Denny assured him. "Just some parents will have to have 'the talk' when they get home; no big deal." He tried to laugh and cuff Luke on the shoulder.

After a few more supremely awkward moments of thanking Denny, apologizing, and collecting their things, Luke and Lorelai found themselves outside in the hall, blinking in the bright light, frustrated, embarrassed, and wondering where to go now.

They stole looks at each other in the bright light, neither knowing quite what to do or say. Awkwardness returned from Canada and offered to rejoin the group. Desire started to walk away.

"We should find somewhere to talk," Lorelai murmured, absently reaching out and stroking Luke's arm.

The movement of her hand was hypnotic. "Yeah, talk," Luke agreed, partly because he wasn't ready for this to end, and partly because he was ready to agree to anything she suggested.

Lorelai tore her focus from his arm and gazed up and down the hallway. "Um, maybe that courtyard from earlier?"

"Sure," he said, and led the way down the hall.

They sat down on the bench Lorelai had been standing on.

"Ow!" she complained, leaping back up and rubbing the backs of her thighs. The wooden slats didn't feel good against her bare legs at all.

"Here," Luke offered, tugging her down onto his lap. Since she wasn't expecting that she tumbled against his chest. He encircled her with his arms, pressing her close before raising her face to his and kissing her hungrily.

He tried to tell himself to stop, to think, but it was useless. He didn't want to stop; he didn't want to think. He'd waited and waited and _waited_ for this, and now that it was happening he didn't want to be the strong, sensible one. He wanted to keep running his hands over her bare skin, he wanted to keep kissing her senseless. He wanted _her_.

Lorelai broke away, gasping, and clumsily stood up. "OK. There's got to be someplace. A coatroom. A storeroom. Someplace!" She looked around frantically.

The word 'storeroom' conjured up one of his favorite fantasies. It was late, and he was back in the diner's storeroom for some reason, and suddenly Lorelai was there, dressed in the jeans that made him swear under his breath when she wore them and that one tight v-neck sweater that went down 'way too low. Hey there, she'd say, seductively, can I use the box cutter thingy? He'd hold it up, enticingly, and say, Well, that's going to cost you, and she'd step over to him, pushing him back on the table and say, 'Well, maybe we can work out a payment plan…'

Suddenly, the real Lorelai pulled him up and plunged a hand into his pants pocket.

"Jesus, Lorelai!" he sputtered. "What are you doing?" He shifted away, trying to keep her questing fingers away from where he really wanted them.

"Keys," she muttered. "I mean, you drove, right? And your truck…" Her free hand made a level motion, attempting to indicate the bench seat. "Because my Jeep…" Her hand made two dipping motions. "Not so good," she said, shaking her head, continuing her search.

"Lorelai," he said desperately, trying to still her hand. Just then she pulled out a thin plastic card. Both of them stared at it.

"Um, what's this?" she asked.

Luke tried to get his brain to work again. "Room key," he gasped out.

Her smile started to light up her face again. "You have a room?" she asked, delighted. When he nodded, she leaned forward, kissing him quickly. "Luke Danes, you are the most amazing man!" She tipped back her head, laughing, before tucking her arm under his and tugging him back inside and down the hall to the elevators.

Lorelai pushed the up button and fidgeted impatiently while waiting for the elevator doors to open. Luke watched her, knowing that he should ask her, 'Are you sure?' but not wanting to chance stopping this. He knew he should ask. He knew he should make her stop and take a moment to reconsider what they were about to do. He knew it, but for once he wasn't strong enough to do what he knew he should. He tried, however. He looked at her, and opened his mouth, and willed himself to find the words.

Lorelai paused in her waiting-for-the-elevator dance and looked at him, taking in his conflicted body language. Her eyes softened and she leaned in closer to him, letting her hand stroke his tense jaw as she looked deeply into his eyes. "Yes, Luke," she whispered into his ear. "Yes, I'm sure."

The elevator doors opened and they tumbled inside. Luke pressed the seven button and then pressed Lorelai up against the shiny brass wall, kissing her like he'd been waiting six years to do just that.

She broke the kiss abruptly, confused when she felt the top of her dress loosen. She held it to her, realizing with a jolt of electric desire that Luke was pulling down her zipper. "Luke! Elevator!" she choked out, with a scandalized laugh. With a growl, he pulled the zipper back closed, his lips on her neck as he did so.

They reached their floor and stepped out, kissing their way down the hall. Luke pushed her aside long enough to get the door open. He held it ajar, motioning for Lorelai to step ahead of him.

She crossed the threshold and her dress fell to her feet. She looked down at the shiny pile of pink stupidly before stepping out from it. Somewhat taken aback, she muttered, "I'd heard tequila can make your clothes fall off, but I wasn't drinking tequila tonight." She glared back over her shoulder at Luke.

He grinned at her, impishly, totally pleased with himself. Then his eyes left her face and roamed over her body clad only in a strapless bra and tiny bikini panties. His eyes widened and he tried to breath. "Jeez, Lorelai, I shouldn't have…I'm sorry…I…" he gulped, shaking his head.

She stepped over to him quickly, taking his hands in hers. "Luke, it's fine," she said quietly. She kissed him gently, reassuringly. His hands started to caress her instantly, stroking all of her bare skin from the bottom of her bra to the tops of her panties. She shivered in delightful anticipation.

"You match," he pointed out, huskily. Her underwear was the same color as her dress.

She tried to steal enough focus away from how he was making her feel to find some words. "I knew it would drive my mother even crazier, if she knew. Not that she ever would. I never imagined that anyone would see my undies tonight. I never dreamed it would be you." She paused, swallowing hard. "I'm really glad it's you." She began to lean down to take off a shoe.

"Don't take off your shoes yet," he pleaded, whispering against her ear. "You look incredible."

He ran his hands up her arms and shoulders, to her neck, and then up into her hair. His long fingers found the pins holding up her curls and he began removing them one by one, dropping them carelessly to the floor. His fingers pulled her curls down over her shoulders.

"I like your curls," he said, softly.

"I'll remember that," she smiled.

He stopped and drew in a breath, his fingers griping her shoulders. "Will you, Lorelai? Will you remember this?"

She saw the uncertainty in his eyes then, and the fear, and she saw something else, too, something that she'd tried not to see for a long, long time. "I'll never forget this, Luke," she promised, sealing her words with a long, sweet kiss.

Her fingers had been busy as well, and as they broke the kiss she smiled, pushing his opened shirt over his shoulders and then starting to yank off his t-shirt. "What do you say we catch you up to the rest of the party now, huh?" She leaned against him and whispered into his ear, "I've always wanted to see what was under the flannel."

* * *

><p>Hours later, Lorelai lay cuddled up against Luke, who was softly snoring. She was drowsy but not able or willing to fall asleep. Her blood was still throbbing through her; the electric thrill of what they'd discovered together was still coursing through her veins. She drew in a shaky breath and tried to catalog how she was feeling.<p>

Remarkably, she was not in a panic. She wasn't worried, or anxious, or chastising herself for leaping without looking. Just being with Luke seemed to quell any misgivings. With Luke. She felt the goofy grin spread back over her face. She was _with_ Luke. She was with Luke and she was happy. Contented. Sated. Completely satisfied. And something else. She frowned slightly, irritated at not being able to identify the emotion. It was something she'd felt before, she knew that. What was it?

A memory from when Rory was just a few weeks old popped into her head. They were snuggled into a rocking chair she'd finally persuaded a maid to help her move into her room. Rory had just finished nursing and she'd looked up into Lorelai's face with those startling blue eyes, smiling right into her mother's heart, all of those baby books be damned that said babies couldn't focus yet. For the first time her fear of making a mess of this mother thing subsided and she knew, she _knew_ she'd be able to take care of this perfect little baby. A feeling of warm contentment and joy washed over her as she watched her little angel baby drift off to sleep.

Joy. That's what she was feeling now. Pure, absolute joy. The joy of having found something she didn't even know she was missing.

The effects of the alcohol had long worn away, but now drunk with joy she launched herself back on top of him. She laughed at his surprise as she pulled him out of sleep. She looked down at the man drowsily adoring her and she laughed joyfully. Lorelai lowered her head down close to his for a kiss, just moments away from becoming a Pez dispenser.


	2. Chapter 2: How to Balance Your Life

**Author's Note:** Here's the conclusion of the story and how Luke and Lorelai cope with the day after their night before. (And the day after that. And hopefully, all of the days after that!)

* * *

><p>Chapter 2: How to Balance Your Life<p>

Sometimes even chefs don't feel like cooking. That's when they go to Luke's.

Sookie had been heading home when the urge for a Luke's burger hit her. Her going-home plans were waylaid as she diverted to the diner. She greeted people happily as she made her way to the counter and hoisted herself onto a stool.

"Hey, Luke!" she trilled out when he came to stand in front of her. "Two of your finest burgers and fries, please!"

"Just you tonight?" he questioned, while he wrote down her order. "No Lorelai?" He was proud that he could say her name without drooling.

"Nope. She was late getting in this morning, so she's staying to make up for it." Sookie leaned over the counter a little towards Luke, conspiratorially. "She was at some high society thing last night for Emily, and just between you and me, I think she did something slutty!"

Luke stopped breathing.

"Yep!" Sookie continued, giggling, oblivious to Luke's reaction. Prodding him like this about Lorelai was something she did from time to time, just to remind him that he needed to act before another Max or Christopher came along and stole her away. "I don't know the details, but I'd bet my best whisk that she had a very interesting time, if you get my drift," she added, trying her best to wink. "Say, Luke, _you_ weren't in Hartford last night, were you?" She looked at him then, laughing at her attempts to needle him.

For just a split second, Luke's face showed panic. That was the split second Sookie looked up at him and registered it. Her laughter disappeared.

Her eyes widened. She blinked. Made the instantaneous decision to pretend she hadn't seen what she saw.

Luke knew she knew. But he decided to pretend that he didn't know she was pretending she didn't know.

He closed his eyes briefly, reflecting that he'd been around Lorelai too much.

"Um, did I mention I need those burgers to go?" Sookie asked desperately, trying to turn her bubbly back on. "So, uh, get crackin' there, diner man! I've got a hungry guy at home waiting for dinner!" She threw her arms around for emphasis.

Luke tried to smile. "On it," he muttered, and turned towards the kitchen.

Oh, Lord! Sookie kept thinking. She bopped around on the stool, trying to look casual, trying to act carefree and normal, but ending up looking possessed. Thankfully Luke made the food in record time, and soon she was paying for it, trying hard to show how _fine_ and _unaware_ she was, and how _normal_ this transaction was.

"Bye!" she shouted, practically running for the door.

Luke breathed easier after she left, but he chewed his lip nervously. Lost in thought, he picked up the coffee pot and started his way around the room for refills.

Sookie briskly made her way two streets over to her home, keeping a smile plastered to her face so that anyone watching her would see just how normal everything was.

Everything's fine, she kept thinking, nodding to imaginary passers-by. Nothing to see here!

Once she reached her own front porch, she allowed herself to stop and reflect. This could be really, really good, she considered, or this could be really, really bad. Either way, they needed to figure it out on their own. She looked down at the bag, staring at the Luke's logo. She was fond of Luke, and she loved Lorelai like a sister she never had. All she wanted was for Lorelai to find her own Jackson, and she'd always thought Luke would fit the bill perfectly.

A sudden giggle leaked out of her. Man, she would kill to know the details!

She closed her eyes, and thought about arugula. She was good at distracting herself with vegetable thoughts. Nodding, she opened the door. She and Jackson would discuss the arugula crop, and then she would look up recipes for the leafy green. She would absolutely not think about her best friend and Luke doing slutty things in Hartford. Hmm. Maybe she and Jackson should do slutty things in Stars Hollow instead…

"Jackson!" she called out, crashing open the front door. "Come talk vegetables to me, baby!"

* * *

><p>Pulling up in front of her house, Lorelai let her brain turn off for a few, brief, restful moments. She felt like she'd been playing catch-up all day after her late start. The Inn had been hectic with guests checking out and then preparing for a group of tropical fish enthusiasts expected tomorrow. Of course, no matter how busy she was, in the background her mind had been constantly turning over and over what she'd done the night before, and trying to come up with a plan for dealing with the mess she'd made.<p>

Not that Luke was a mess. Far from it. Luke was _fine, _with his fine shoulders, with that surprising tattoo, and his fine eyes, and his fine…

Stop, stop, stop! She told herself.

Exhausted, she pulled herself from the car and dragged herself towards the porch. Just a few more steps and she could go take a hot bath and collapse in her own bed.

She gave a strangled shriek as someone suddenly rose from the shadows on the steps.

"It's just me," Luke said quickly, wanting to quiet her.

_So_ not who she wanted to see. "You gave me a heart attack!" she snapped, trying to smack him as he dove away from her. "What are you _doing_ here?"

Luke motioned at the steps and they both sat down cautiously, carefully keeping distance between them.

"Here," he said, pushing a bag at her.

Unsure, she looked at him and then peeked in the bag. It was her black sweater. She poked further into the bag. "You didn't find anything else?" she questioned.

"Oh, those I'm keeping," Luke said matter-of-factly. Lorelai's head shot up as she stared at him, barely able to believe what she'd just heard. He fixed her with the sexy smile and smoky look she'd learned from the night before, and she felt herself melting all over again.

"Just make sure Jess doesn't find them, then," she tried to say firmly.

"He won't," he assured her.

"Oh, my God!" She felt wild giggles trying to break out at the absurdity of the situation, and put her hand over her mouth, trying vainly to stifle them. "Did you put them in the _safe_?"

Luke grinned and looked away, shrugging.

She tried to wind back her emotions, which were ping-ponging in all directions. "I should let Rory know I'm out here."

"Oh, she knows," Luke said. "Well, she knows I'm out here, waiting for you. I didn't want to scare her, thinking that some weirdo was sitting out here on her front porch. I told her I needed some advice from you, and that I'd just wait for you to come home."

Lorelai nodded, feeling the familiar warmth ooze through her at the way Luke always thought about Rory and did his best to protect her.

"So," Luke sighed. "You didn't come into the diner today."

"Well, no," Lorelai protested, instantly feeling attacked, for some reason. "We were crazy busy at the Inn. Two maids suddenly decided they both had to come down with the flu at the same time, and we had 25 rooms to turn over for tomorrow, and Sookie had some sort of crisis with hazelnuts that I won't even try to understand, and Kirk came by with a weed spray that required a haz-mat suit to get within a football-field distance to it, and…"

Luke put his hand on her arm, stopping her. "You didn't come into the diner today," he repeated.

Lorelai took a breath, ready to launch again into her defense, but instead sighed. "No," she agreed.

Luke took his hand away, looking straight ahead in the darkness as he let both of his hands drape over his knees. "Lorelai, I know you. I know why you didn't come into the diner today. I know you won't come into the diner tomorrow, or the next day, or however long it takes before you come to terms with what happened."

"That's not true!" she insisted.

"_I know you_," he said emphatically. "I know you won't come in, and I don't want that! I don't want to lose your friendship. We just got back together. I don't…I don't want you to think you have to stay away until you get this cleared up. I don't want things to change between us!"

"But I…"

"No! Stop! I don't want you to say anything now," he pleaded. "I want you to take your time. I'm not going to push you. Take all the time you need. Make a hundred pro-con lists. I don't care. Just don't say something now, in your hurry to make everything right, that's going to make it worse. I want this to be your decision, and I'll abide by whatever you say. If you want to be friends, that's fine. If you want that― that, whatever they call it, 'friends with benefits,'" he momentarily floundered, "that's fine. If you want something more, that's fine. But I want you to take your time, and not jump off the cliff now."

Lorelai wanted to laugh as he struggled over the 'friends with benefits' and she wanted to cry at the yearning struggling in him. She settled for watching the fireflies twinkling in her lawn.

"OK," she said, softly.

Luke let out a big breath. "I just…I don't want to lose what we've always had."

"I don't want that, either," Lorelai agreed.

"So, promise me you'll come to the diner tomorrow. We can pretend nothing has changed. Just come in, and we'll go back a couple of days and you can eat enough to feed a family of five, and I'll rant at you, and we'll make everything normal again."

"Luke," she said doubtfully, shaking her head.

"We can _pretend,_" he emphasized. "You're the Queen of Denial, remember?"

"Yeah," she laughed. "That I am. I just didn't know you encouraged me in that."

He smiled. "Special circumstances. And just until you have a chance to get your thoughts together."

They smiled at each other, nearly shyly, and both stood up awkwardly.

"So…you'll be in tomorrow?" he asked, his hands on his hips.

"Sure," Lorelai replied, distracted. It was still hot enough that Luke wasn't wearing a flannel shirt over his tee. She licked her lips, looking at his right arm where she now knew the tattoo was. She fought the urge to slide up his sleeve so she could run her fingers over it again.

"Lorelai?" He wasn't sure what was causing the spaced-out look on her face.

"Um, I should show you, um, something. Something over here!" She hooked her fingers through his belt loop and quickly pulled him around the side of her house.

"What's over here?" he asked, confused.

"Not Babette!" she said, throwing her weight against him, causing him to land with a muffled thud against the house. Even though he was startled, he wrapped his arms around her at once and she attached her mouth to his, drinking in the warmth she'd thought about all day. She sank into him, pushing her hands under his t-shirt to desperately feel his skin, urging him to take more of her. He eagerly complied. For several steamy minutes they lapsed back into the natural rhythm they'd discovered the night before.

A noise from inside the house suddenly brought them back to their senses and they held each other, panting, as they both fought for control.

Lorelai kissed his mouth, quickly: One, two, three times. Then she gave him little kisses all around his mouth, and finally pushed herself away.

"So, uh, I'm guessing that wouldn't be acceptable diner behavior," she said nervously, folding her arms over her chest.

"Probably not," Luke agreed, tucking his shirt back in. "But I'm not complaining," he added, low, as he leaned past her to pick up his hat.

"OK, OK," Lorelai said, her head bobbing. "Just learning the limits."

They walked back around to the front of the house.

"Just don't worry about it, OK?" Luke urged her. "Anything's going to be fine. We'll make it fine."

"OK," she agreed, ignoring as best she could the doubt in her heart and the lust everywhere else.

"See you for breakfast?"

"See you," she said, watching as he started to leave. "Oh, and, Luke!"

He turned.

She took two steps closer. "Take good care of my panties." She swore she could see him blush in the dark. She watched as he disappeared into the night beyond the mailbox. Reluctantly she turned and headed inside.

"Hey, I'm home!" Lorelai called out as she finally made it inside her house.

"Hi!" Rory called out, as she popped out of her room, already dressed for bed. "Did you see Luke?"

"Yep," Lorelai said as casually as possible, pretending to be fascinated by the mail so that her face was averted from her daughter.

"What sort of advice did he need?"

"Advice?" Lorelai asked, blankly.

"Yeah, he said he needed some advice from you."

"Oh!" She tried to make her brain work. This quick-thinking was her trademark, right? "He, uh, he said that, uh, Jess had spilled something on the curtains—you know, those girly flowery ones—and he was wondering if he should try to get them cleaned or just buy new ones."

Rory eyed her mother skeptically. "He needed to come by at this time of night to ask you about curtains."

So maybe quick-thinking was no longer her thing. "Yeah, I, uh, I guess there's a curtain sale tomorrow, see, so he thought if he was going to have to buy new ones, he'd better make the decision tonight, so he could have time to go shopping tomorrow, but, uh, I told him I'd come by and look at them in the morning, because until I'd actually see the stain, you know, it's hard to judge…So how's Paris? How's Dean? How was dinner?" Lorelai fired off her questions quickly, hoping one would provide a distraction.

"Paris, if possible, is even more tightly-wound before leaving on a vacation than she is during the school year," Rory sighed, mentally agreeing to drop the Luke-stopped-by-to-discuss-curtains subterfuge mainly because she was tired and had no desire to get into another Jess pro-con debate with her mother tonight. "She did, however, have some excellent ideas for the Franklin, and I've got some topics for articles all lined up that I can start working on."

"Good, because you certainly wouldn't want to waste these few weeks before school starts again just lazing around, watching movies or letting your brain atrophy. You need to be working on something," Lorelai mocked.

"Yes, I do," Rory grinned. "Tonight I worked on eating this amazing Italian food with my pretty boyfriend. There's a meatball in the fridge for you, by the way."

"Bribing Mommy. Very good," Lorelai told her approvingly.

"You've taught me well," Rory agreed, as she squeezed past her mother to walk into the living room, intending to pick up some empty bottles and plates to take to the kitchen before bed. She paused, however, sniffing the air around Lorelai again.

"Rory!" Lorelai protested.

"Did you change shampoos or conditioners, or something?" Rory asked, inhaling by her mother's head.

"No!" Lorelai was starting to back up the stairs, trying to get away. "Maybe it's something from the Inn."

"Maybe," Rory said, doubtfully. "It's just so familiar. I should be able to place it."

"Well, it doesn't matter, because I'm heading up right now to shower it off," Lorelai told her firmly. "Good night!"

"'Night," Rory said, shrugging her shoulders, but mentally filing away the scent.

* * *

><p>Hours later Lorelai was still trying to convince her brain to let her drift off to sleep. When she first climbed into bed she'd giddily replayed some of the more intense memories she had of the night before, and relived the night from start to finish. That had led to extreme frustration and the inability to close her eyes at all. That in turn had led to thoughts of kissing Luke tonight outside her house. She liked kissing Luke. She liked it a lot. She liked kissing him in Hartford. She liked kissing him in Stars Hollow. Kissing him could be like the best hobby ever.<p>

_I will kiss him here, I will kiss him there, I will kiss him on the stairs_, her mind sing-songed.

She sighed and smacked her pillow, wishing she could just put it aside for a few hours and go to sleep.

She wondered if Luke was asleep in his tiny bed above the diner, all warm and soft and hard and cuddly, safe in his apartment with the stain-free girly curtains, with his amazing hands and mouth, and those sexy, sexy eyes that absolutely glowed at her with the promise of all of the hot, dirty things he was going to do to her…

…And just what the hell did he mean, she could take all the time she needed?

Lorelai's eyes popped open, her breathing now rapid for another reason. She spun herself over in the bed, smashing her arms into her pillow angrily.

Like she was some immature child, who couldn't be trusted to sort out her feelings, while he was the adult, willing to placidly wait for her? And what was the part about _pretending_? He wanted to pretend last night hadn't happened? What was that about?

""_I know you,_'" she muttered mockingly. Like he spends one night with me and that gives him the right to assume he knows how I feel and what I'm going to do. Well, not so fast, mister!

Quickly she replayed their conversation from that evening, adding an extra layer of smugness to Luke's words each time she went over them.

Oh, so sure of himself, isn't he? She sneered. She was now sitting up on the side of the bed, her legs dangling as she angrily dug her fingers into the edge of the mattress. Was it the stupid 'I love you' thing? Was that what this was about?

Well, she'd show him! If he thought he knew Lorelai Gilmore and could predict what she was going to do, she'd prove him wrong. If he really knew her, he'd know there was no predicting what she'd do!

She barely felt the stairs under her feet as she powered down them. She stepped into some flip-flops at the front door - they were actually Rory's but she didn't care. She paused just a moment to lock the door as she went through it, and then she let her anger rocket her towards the center of town.

'_You didn't come into the diner today._' Well, here I am now, buddy! She thought as she felt for the key over the door. She fumbled with the key in the dark, finally wrenching the door open and grimacing as the bells jingled. She hadn't thought about the stupid bells. She locked the door behind her and laid the key next to the cash register before she headed for the stairs.

In some far corner of her mind she was grateful that Jess was still visiting Liz in New York, but she was so angry at Luke that she would have happily yelled at him with his nephew having a front-row seat.

She paused in front of the frosted-glass door, trying to catch her breath, feeling her heart trying to jump out of her chest from her anger and exertion.

"Luke!" she yelled, pounding on the door. "Luke!"

He yanked open the door before she could yell again, and stood there staring at her, all warm and soft and hard and cuddly, just as she'd pictured him. His old t-shirt stretched across his chest as he rubbed his arm where the tattoo was. His hair was all mused from bed. "Lorelai?" he mumbled, confused.

She stared back at him. She stared at all of him. She stared at his face, and his eyes, and his hair. She took in his chest, under that old t-shirt, and his legs, and his boxers that were barely concealing what she remembered so well from the night before. She swallowed hard.

"Lorelai?" he tried again, but now his mouth was starting to turn up with that smug smile. "Did you come all the way over here just to see what I sleep in?"

"Did I…" Lorelai couldn't remember why she'd been so dead set on coming over here. She'd been angry about something. She'd wanted to tell him something. She couldn't remember now. She stepped closer to him and pushed up the arm of his shirt, letting her fingers trace the design there before she kissed his shoulder.

He leaned past her for a moment to close the door, keeping his body pressed to hers even after he'd accomplished that task. When she looked up from kissing his shoulder, he caught her lips with his, anchoring her to him with his arms. He tried to remind himself that he'd decided he wasn't going to kiss her again until she'd had time to process all that had happened between them; that he wasn't going to pressure her into a relationship; that he was going to step back and let her make up her own mind.

Or he could start doing that tomorrow.

He tightened his arms around her waist and bent his knees slightly, raising her several inches off the floor when he straightened up again. He never broke the kiss as he moved her over to his tiny, tiny bed.

* * *

><p>Sometime later, Lorelai nuzzled her face into the space between Luke's neck and chest, relishing the closeness of him and the utter contentment existing inside her. "That was so good," she moaned, raising herself just enough to make out his features in the pale light from the streetlights. "Why is it <em>so<em> good?"

Luke chuckled, letting his fingers push her curls off of her face, and then letting them trail down her neck to her shoulders. He didn't think he'd ever smiled this much in his life. He knew he'd never felt this happy. "You know why it's this good, Lorelai."

"Because you're some sort of sex god?" she asked, rubbing his chest. "Remind me I'm never going to forgive you for keeping that information from me, by the way."

"No, that's not it," he laughed, "although please feel free to keep thinking that, if you want." He pushed his hand through her hair, then pressed his hand against the back of her head, bringing her face closer so he could give her a kiss. "It's this good because I love you, too."

He felt her stop breathing and stiffen, and instantly he knew he'd said exactly the wrong thing. He'd promised himself he wasn't going to freak her out by going too fast, but here he was, one night into their new dynamic, spilling his guts and scaring her off.

"And, I'm a sex god," he said boldly, flipping her over and pinning her underneath him, starting to kiss under her jaw. "You'd better remember that, or I'll have to keep reminding you."

He felt her relax, and she giggled. "Maybe I like the reminders."

"You are so much work," he pretended to complain, sighing, as he let his mouth glide its way down her neck.

* * *

><p>Luke woke up the next morning clutching Lorelai to him in an effort to keep her from falling out of his much-maligned but well-used single bed. Having her pressed to him so tightly was causing him to be aroused to the point that he really had no choice but to wake her up.<p>

She didn't seem to mind. At all.

Eventually he rolled to his back, bringing Lorelai along to lie against his shoulder. "Angel," he rasped out, catching sight of her dark curls massed on his pillow.

"Oh, I'm the angel now?" Lorelai laughed, skeptically, her eyes shut tight against the bright sunlight dancing around the room. "Does that make you the junkie?"

"Yeah," he agreed, already feeling like he wanted to devour her again. "Yeah, I think it does."

Lazily stroking her bare skin, he marveled at his sense of contentment. Who needs a lousy alarm clock, he thought, when you could wake up like this every morning? Wait. Alarm clock…

"Shit!" he yelled. "Lorelai, get up!" He leaped from the bed, nearly bouncing her out to the floor from his sudden movement.

"Hey!" she protested, clinging to the edge of the mattress, glaring at him.

He was throwing on clothes and flinging things he was finding on the floor to her. "Get up!" he demanded again. "We knocked over the bedside table last night, remember? It had the alarm clock on it! And now it's"— he grabbed the clock off he floor—"a quarter after six! It's a miracle Kirk isn't hanging upside down outside that window!"

Lorelai was sitting on the edge of the bed but had made no move to get dressed. She was regarding Luke with angry, suspicious eyes.

He paused a moment in his frantic haste to get ready. "Lorelai, look. I've got to get downstairs and get the diner open. You've got to get out of here before everyone in town knows. You don't want Miss Patty playing town crier, do you?"

"No," she muttered, crankily, and started getting dressed.

Luke tried to avert his eyes, knowing that watching her right now would derail every good intention he had. He was already contemplating how easy it would be to put the 'gone fishing' sign in the window for today. He willed himself to find some strength.

"So how do you propose to get me out of here?" Lorelai asked with a pout.

Luke glanced at her and stopped abruptly. "You can't go out like that," he protested, pointing to her chest. Her thin tank top wasn't hiding anything, and it was broad daylight now. He threw his flannel shirt to her while pulling a different one out of his closet for himself.

"Oh, yeah," she said sarcastically. "Walking home from the diner at six in the morning in your flannel shirt isn't going to tip anybody off that we're having sex!"

"_Lorelai!_" he threatened, as though somebody might have actually heard her. "Look, I don't have any better idea, do you? We've got to get you home, and you can't walk outside like that!"

"Fine!" she snapped.

"Fine!" he snapped back.

A few minutes later found them hustling down the hall to the back door to the alley.

"Wait until you hear me open the front door," Luke told her quickly. "That should distract everyone, and you'll be able to sneak out this way and head towards home. Just watch out. Most people who are out this time in the morning are on a specific timetable, and they won't have time to notice you if you're not calling attention to yourself, OK?"

"Sure," Lorelai said, sounding pissed. She understood the situation, but she couldn't believe Luke was pushing her out the back door like this. She crossed her arms in his shirt tightly across her chest, trying hard to keep her anger bottled up.

Luke started towards the diner, but suddenly turned and grabbed her arm, swinging her around and kissing her heatedly but swiftly.

"I'm sorry about this," he said, letting her go just as quickly as he'd grabbed her. "Come in later for chocolate chip pancakes. And be careful!" He hurried down the hall.

Slightly mollified, Lorelai waited to go out the door until she heard the early morning crowd giving Luke a hard time about making them wait. No one was passing by the alley, so she quickly went the opposite way, dodging early morning joggers and the Jenson boy delivering papers. She skirted through the back of the church, crossed behind the Smithson's garden, went up the driveway of the huge blue house on Peach, and soon found herself within sight of her own house.

Keeping a wary eye out for Babette, she headed for the porch, snagging the key out of the turtle on the way. She quickly took off Luke's shirt, rolling it into a tight little ball to hide it as best she could, and reflected that she was coming home for the second morning in a row after having lots of hot sex with Luke. Of all the crazy, unbelievable things she'd had happen in her life, this was taking the prize.

Actually, having lots of hot sex with Luke was the prize, but still, unbelievable.

Shaking her head, she started up the stairs.

She heard Rory's door open, and she threw Luke's shirt up the stairs as hard as she could. It landed with a muffled 'thump' somewhere in the upstairs hallway.

"You're up?" She heard Rory's delighted voice, and she steeled herself to turn and face her.

"Couldn't sleep," she lied. "Why, oh why, are you up?"

Rory was fairly dancing with excitement at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at her mother. "Today's the day Mrs. Kim finally gave Lane permission to go to Boston with me. Lane's been planning all summer. She's got directions to every underground record store in the whole city, but we had to promise that she'd be home in time for Bible study this afternoon, so we're leaving super early."

Lorelai groaned involuntarily at Rory's enthusiasm. It seemed to be leaching whatever energy she still had at her disposal right out of her. She clutched the banister tighter.

"But now that you're up, this is even better!" Rory crowed. "You can come with me to Luke's for breakfast before we leave! I was just going to grab some Pop Tarts, but now we can go get pancakes!"

"Rory, honey, sweet child 'o mine, Mommy needs some sleep," she protested.

"Please, Mom? I feel like I've hardly seen you this summer, first with me being in Washington, and now with you being so busy at the Inn. And we've hardly been to Luke's together all summer, because it took you guys so long to make up after the accident. So, please, let's go together this morning, and catch up a little bit. Pleeeeeease?"

Lorelai opened her eyes and saw Rory's pleading face, complete with the irresistible puppy-dog eyes. "Damn," she groaned. "I taught you too well."

"Yay!" Rory bounced on her tiptoes, clapping. "Hurry! Lane and I need to be on the road by eight!"

Pretending to cry, (and feeling so bone-tired weary that it could be the real thing), Lorelai pulled her exhausted body up the stairs to get ready, kicking the wad of flannel safely into her room when she was sure Rory couldn't see.

Thirty minutes later she and Rory stepped into Luke's, where the breakfast rush was in full-swing. In spite of being in the midst of delivering a whole armload of plates to a table, Luke registered their entry, his eyes widening in surprise. Lorelai lifted her chin slightly towards Rory, and Luke nodded nearly imperceptibly in response, showing that he understood.

One of the small, two-seat tables was available in the far corner, and the girls scurried over to it.

Lorelai was trying to listen to Rory's chatter about the music Lane was hoping to score today, and the article she'd started for the Franklin, and how amazing Dean was for managing to get her car running again. She wanted to listen, she really did, but her eyes kept following Luke's movements, and her brain was lost in a sleep-deprived haze of lust.

Luke made his way over to them, his body language showing how uncomfortable he felt. "Whadit'll be?" He rushed out the words.

"Pancakes and sausage," Rory told him decisively, nodding her head emphatically. "I need good, hearty, road trip-worthy food."

"OK," he said, with no desire to question Rory and prolong his time at their table. "You?" he directed at Lorelai.

"Coffee," she mumbled, circling her arms in an attempt to convey how big of a cup she needed.

"Get some pancakes," Rory urged her.

Lorelai partially opened one eye and looked at her bright, cheery daughter. "Coffee," she groaned again.

"Mom's a little cranky," Rory felt the need to explain to Luke. "She didn't get much sleep last night."

Luke choked. Rory attempted to pat him on the back, but he jumped away from her. Lorelai grinned evilly at him. He glared at her and went to get the coffee.

He put down their mugs and filled them. He started to move away when Lorelai reached out and circled her hand around his wrist, keeping him at their table while she gulped down several swallows of the liquid she hoped would keep her functioning.

Luke tried to steel his mind against all of the thoughts being inspired by her touch. Rory was sitting right there, for cryin' out loud!

She put her mug back down and motioned for him to refill it. He did and she picked it back up, batting her eyes at him over the rim. "Thanks. You're the best," she told him, lightly, the same as she would have said any day in the past, but giving him a look that let him know exactly to what she was referring.

"Geez," he muttered, feeling the heat in his cheeks. He hurried off to get Rory's order.

It was when he brought Rory's pancakes that everything went straight to hell.

He leaned in front of Rory to set down her plate, and Lorelai watched as Rory bent forward to inhale the delicious aroma, but got a whiff of Luke along with it.

"Oh, no," Lorelai breathed, watching her daughter's face.

She knew that face well. The first time she'd seen it, Rory had been three-and-three-quarters old, and Lorelai had been reading her "The Cat in the Hat" for the zillionth time, and on that day, Rory suddenly realized that c-a-t spelled cat, and random marks on the page materialized into words, and Rory understood reading. Her little brain had turned the gears and everything fell into place. Over the years, Lorelai had watched Rory go through the same process many times: Isosceles triangles, the theory of evolution, the correct ratio of mascara to eye shadow. And today, it was the solving of the mystery of what had been going on with her mother.

Lorelai stood up forcefully, sending her chair crashing over backwards. Luke jumped at the noise and looked at her balefully, chastising her silently for calling more attention to them.

"Help me!" she spat out at him, rushing to Rory's side and trying to haul her up.

"Is she going to be sick?" he questioned, confused by the look on Rory's face and Lorelai's determination.

"Luke," she said extra quietly, "in about five seconds her mouth is going to open, and trust me, you are not going to want her to say the words that are going to come out in the diner! She knows!" she hissed at him. "Now, help me!"

Luke was still confused but he automatically believed Lorelai He put down the coffee pot on the table and grabbed Rory's other arm. Together they got her across the floor and behind the curtain.

"Storeroom?" Lorelai gasped.

"Upstairs," Luke ordered.

Partway up the stairs Rory started making noises, her eyes wide, looking from one to the other of them.

"You!" she said, shocked, to Lorelai, as they rushed her inside Luke's apartment. "And him!" She jerked her head at Luke. "You! And her! You've been…That's why…The smell! It was him!"

Luke was breathing rapidly, watching his worst nightmare unfold. Lorelai was groaning, pressing her hands over her eyes.

"Rory, it's not…" she started, but just then Rory caught sight of Luke's disheveled bed and the upturned bedside table.

"Oh, my God!" She crossed her arms tightly over her stomach, her face pale with shock. "_Oh, my God_!"

"Rory, seriously, let me explain…" Lorelai tried again, although she wasn't altogether clear on what she was going to explain.

"You didn't tell me!" Rory said accusingly to Lorelai, as tears threatened her. "How could you not tell me you guys are together?"

"We're not…we're not _together_!" Lorelai floundered, trying to find the right words to comfort her daughter and not hurt Luke at the same time. In the back of her mind, she already knew that was a lost cause. None of them were going to escape this in one piece. "We were just…We've just been…We were both in Hartford the other night…"

Rory looked even more horrified and now angry, as well. "Are you trying to tell me that you guys just _hooked up_?" Her eyes were shooting sparks at Lorelai. "You'd better try and clear this up for me, Mom," she said sarcastically.

"Rory." Lorelai took a deep breath. "We don't know what this is exactly, yet. We're still trying to figure it out."

"You're trying to tell me that you jumped into this without any thought of the consequences? To me? To Luke? To you? That's just great, Mom! I told you years ago that you couldn't do this to Luke, of all people!"

Lorelai was still trying to keep her composure and somehow smooth over this deteriorating situation. "Luke and I will figure this out. It's just so new, and we're still trying to decide how to handle this…this…thing!"

"Trying to figure it out? Oh, come on, Mom, you mean to tell me in all these years you've never given this any thought?" she yelled at her mother, in disbelief. "Are you really that oblivious? And you!" She suddenly whirled to face Luke, pointing at him. "Are you going to tell me that you don't know what's going on either, that you're all confused about what you want?"

"No, I know what I want," Luke told her, as calmly as possible. He was traumatized that he was standing in his apartment, having this discussion with Rory, with the evidence of his and Lorelai's indiscretion right in their faces.

"Way to kiss-up and make me look bad," Lorelai groused, under her breath.

"And?" Rory asked him, impatiently, tapping her foot.

"And, it's up to your mother," Luke explained, shrugging.

"Why is it up to her?" Rory snapped. "You don't care?"

"Of course I care! I…Look," Luke sighed, hating that he was going to have to explain this to a not-yet-eighteen-year-old girl, but seeing that there was no other choice. "It seems to me that all the guys your mom has been with have convinced her that she needed to be with them. I don't want this to be that way. I want your mom to decide on her own how she feels about me. If she thinks we should be together, great. If not, I'll get over it. But it's her decision. Not mine. Not yours," he added, giving Rory a look, hoping she couldn't see that the 'I'll get over it' was the biggest lie he ever told.

"Now, just a minute, here!" Lorelai protested.

Luke held Rory's eyes until she gave a little jerk of her chin and looked down at the floor, thoughtfully. "No, Mom, he's right," she said, starting to calm down.

"He is?" Lorelai said, doubtfully.

Rory thought about her father, trying to convince her mother that they belonged together, even though his girlfriend was pregnant. She thought about Max, who'd managed to urge Lorelai to marry him in order to save their relationship. She even thought about Burrito Boy, who'd been able to talk her mother into casual dating.

"Yeah, he's absolutely right," Rory said with conviction. She turned to give Luke an admiring look, but remembered that she was still angry with him, so she tried to turn it into a scowl instead, with limited success. "I'm not a part of this decision."

"That's not true!" Lorelai protested automatically. "It affects you, of course you're part of it!"

"Sure, it'll affect me, and I'd appreciate being kept in the loop," she added, sarcastically, "but it's not my decision." Her voice softened. "This is one time you're on your own, Mom."

A hugely uncomfortable silence filled the room, until Rory cleared her throat.

"Um, I need to get going," she stated, fidgeting. "Lane's going to be waiting on me, and Dad and Sherry are expecting us to be to Boston by lunchtime. I really don't want to go back into the diner, though," she added with a grimace.

"Don't worry. I'll handle it," Luke said gruffly, opening the door for them.

Downstairs he motioned for them to wait while he entered through the curtain back into the busy eating area. Various voices clamored at him instantly.

"Is she OK?" That was Babette's gravelly voice, filled with concern.

"Was she sick? Because sometimes in the morning, when I think about my schedule, and about how many places I need to be, it makes me feel sick, and…"

"Shut up, Kirk!" Luke bellowed.

"Seriously, Luke, we're just worried about the little thing," Miss Patty said kindly.

"She's fine," Luke said curtly, righting Lorelai's chair and snatching up Rory's backpack. "Lorelai's got it covered," he added with a scowl, heading back towards the curtain with a stern look that suitably conveyed the fact that no more conversation on this subject would be coming from him.

"Luke! Orders!" Caesar shouted, dismayed to see his boss leaving the dining room again.

"Be right back!" Luke barked, sweeping aside the curtain. He let it fall back into place as he held out the bag to Rory. He motioned for them to head down the hall to the back door.

Lorelai felt that she was replaying some sort of twisted version of _Groundhog Day_, as Luke was once again rushing her out of the back door. She caught his eyes right before she stepped over the threshold, and for the first time she saw a nervous waver of trepidation there, hinting to her that maybe his bold declaration of 'I love you too' had caught him just as unaware as her words on their first night together had shocked her. Weirdly, knowing that whatever this thing was they were doing was unnerving him as well made her feel less shaky and more confident that they would figure it out.

"Later?" she questioned him, quietly.

He nodded, staring at her for just a moment longer before he stepped back, letting the door swing shut.

Rory took a step, starting towards Kim's antiques, but Lorelai grabbed her arm.

"We're OK?" she questioned.

Rory looked at her mother, who was practically dancing with nerves beside her, and decided that it would be too cruel to play this out any longer. "I'm not thrilled about how I found out, but yeah, we're OK."

"Oh, Sweets, thank you!" Lorelai flung her arms around Rory, hugging her tightly. "I was going to tell you, I swear! I just didn't know how to tell you. I didn't know _what_ to tell you. I still don't," she added.

Rory caught her mother in a steadfast gaze. "It's just, I really like Luke," she stated.

"I know that!" Lorelai protested, defensively.

"Don't make him wait too long," she added, mildly. "Figure it out soon."

"OK," Lorelai agreed, although her insides were still all jumbled together. She waved as Rory started over to get Lane, watching until she disappeared through the cluttered entrance before she started back to her own home to get ready to go to work.

Once she made it to the Inn, Lorelai sequestered herself inside her office, telling everyone she had monthly reports to enter and couldn't be disturbed. So far, however, all she'd done was stare at the computer screen, filling in different colors on all of the little squares on the Excel spreadsheet. She especially liked the bright yellow/pumpkin orange design on the "Dining room/Tablecloths" column.

There was a sharp knock on her door and Sookie's beaming face was soon seen, pushing in a rolling cart loaded with a coffee cake and a carafe of coffee.

"I watched some old sitcoms last night," she said, "and it appears that this was how they used to do it. Housewives would get together at the neighbor's house, and they'd eat coffee cake, and drink coffee, and dish the dirt! So I thought, well, it'd work for us, too!"

Lorelai licked her lips, looking at the coffee cake oozing with caramel and what appeared to be slivers of apple. The coffee smelled heavenly. She realized for the first time that during all of the uproar at the diner, she'd never had breakfast or coffee.

"Dish, baby!" she eagerly agreed, holding up a plate for a piece of the fragrant delicacy.

Sookie quickly tried to serve the coffee cake, but in her haste, Lorelai's piece did a quick flip and ended up wrong-side down in front of her. Sookie wailed in protest and tried to corral it back onto a plate.

"It's OK, Sook. Five-second rule!" Lorelai reminded her, grabbing the plate and settling back in her chair before Sookie could take it from her.

Sookie served herself, but wrung her fingers nervously instead of diving into her culinary creation like Lorelai was doing.

Lorelai paused, licking some caramel from her finger, and noticed how ill-at-ease Sookie seemed. "What's wrong, Sweetie?" she asked, concerned. It wasn't often that Sookie wasn't a bubbly mass of happy.

"I know!" Sookie blurted out, throwing her arms straight up over her head. She brought them back down and involuntarily looked around the room for eavesdroppers before lowering her voice and bending closer to Lorelai. "I know it was Luke."

Lorelai froze, her mouth open in shock. She groaned, and dropped her head down onto her desk. "Did Rory call you?" she asked, muffled.

"No, of course not!" Sookie said. "Oh! Rory knows?"

"She figured it out this morning," Lorelai sighed, raising her head slightly to look at Sookie nervously. "It wasn't good."

Sookie cocked her head and shot an incredulous look at Lorelai. "I find that hard to believe. I mean, look at the man! He's gorgeous! So, was he like, too quick on the draw? I mean, I can understand that, since he's waited on you forever, but I'd think that once that's out of the way, he'd probably calm down enough to…"

"No!" Lorelai shouted, finally catching up with Sookie's rambling thoughts. "I don't mean he…I'm talking about Rory finding out. That wasn't good. She was upset that I hadn't told her."

"Oh!" Sookie nodded. "But Luke was good?"

Lorelai squeezed her eyes shut. "Not going there." Her mouth quivered in a smile she tried to squelch. "But…yes."

"I knew it!" Sookie crowed, pumping her fist in the air.

"How did you figure it out?" Lorelai asked.

"I was teasing Luke about being in Hartford with you," Sookie told her, serving Lorelai another piece of coffee cake. "I saw his face and I realized it was true."

"Oh, man," Lorelai sighed. She shook her head, thinking about how freaked out Luke must be, if he realized that Sookie had caught on.

"So what happens now?" Sookie questioned eagerly.

Lorelai pushed back in her chair, clasping her hands in front of her as she surveyed the walls in her small office. She rested her gaze on a small framed picture of her, Rory, Sookie and Mia, taken right before Mia had left. "I don't know," she said, slowly.

"Really?" Sookie prodded.

Lorelai sighed, and brought her focus back to Sookie. "You know, Sook, I'm not stupid."

"Of course not!" Sookie agreed.

"And I'm not oblivious, either. Of course I've seen it. Of course I've known. I've known that Luke has had a thing for me for a long time. How could I not have known?"

"I've wondered that, myself," Sookie agreed.

"For years I've told myself that it was best to ignore it, to pretend it wasn't there, because I was protecting Luke. I told myself that I didn't want to hurt him. He meant too much to me - to me and to Rory - for me to risk exposing him to the ongoing disaster zone that is my dating life. Far better to ignore him and keep him safe."

"I doubt that he would feel that way," Sookie protested, under her breath.

"But the truth is," Lorelai began nervously, tracing the handle on her coffee cup, "the truth is that I'm the one who's scared about getting hurt. If I let myself try this thing with him, and then he decides it's not what he wants…" She broke off, taking a deep breath. "I'm not sure I'd be able to get over it." She almost whispered the words, forcing them out. "If Luke would hurt me like that, Sookie, I don't know that I could get over it."

Sookie scoffed at her. "He's been crazy about you for years, Lorelai! The man is not going to break your heart!"

"But that's just what I'm talking about!" Lorelai protested. "This whole 'He's been into you for years' thing! He's got this idea of us all built up in his head. What happens when he gets the real me and decides I don't come close to what he expected? He's going to be disappointed and disillusioned, and then he's going to dump me, and to continue with the 'd' words, I'm going to be devastated! I've got a broken heart and a kid who'll hate me, not to mention a rickety house with no one to help me make repairs, and no coffee, and…and…no Luke!" she wailed.

Sookie blinked several times, taking in just how invested Lorelai already was in this fledgling relationship.

"Well, first," she started, slowly, "I doubt that there's anything about you he doesn't already know. Over the years he's seen you at your worst, Lorelai. I don't think there's anything left that would shock him out of his feelings for you. He's accepted your eating habits, he knows about your parents, he's seen firsthand the stuff with Christopher and Max. Unless you've managed to hide your secret life as a serial killer from all of us, I doubt that there's anything in your life that he doesn't already know. And he's still crazy about you, right?"

"Maybe," Lorelai sighed.

"No maybe," Sookie said firmly. "We know he is. Frankly, you being scared about getting hurt sounds just like everyone else ready to take the plunge into a relationship. Do you not remember holding my hand when I was terrified over Jackson? Falling in love is always a leap of faith. You've always got to pray that when you're ready to throw your heart to a guy, that he's there ready to catch it. And Luke might have been a track star, but he was darn good at baseball, too. He'll catch your heart, Lorelai, if you let him. He won't drop it."

Lorelai had to smile at that. "But after he catches it, doesn't he have to throw it to home plate or something?"

Sookie giggled. "Honey, if you throw him your heart, trust me, he's never going to let it go."

"OK, the baseball analogy is starting to sound like a bad episode of CSI."

Sookie studied Lorelai's face. "It seems to me that you're already in love with him." Lorelai started to protest, but Sookie cut her off. "Maybe you don't want to say that yet. Maybe you don't even realize that yet, but I think it's true. And if that's already the way you feel, what difference does it make? I mean, say you decide to protect yourself and stop this thing, and keep away from him. Would it really make you feel any better? If you already feel so strongly about him, wouldn't you hurt just as much by cutting it off now? What difference would it make if you have the hurt now or in the future? And I still don't think that there will be any hurt, if you just give him a chance."

"Oh, Sook, I just don't know," Lorelai sighed, pressing her hands over her eyes. "There's just so much at stake, here!"

"Look at it this way. Do you really want to push this off for, what, another couple of years? Do you want to look away and pretend this isn't the way you feel? Do you want to ignore Luke until he gives up waiting for you and finds someone else? Do you want to wait until it's too late?"

"No," Lorelai agreed fervently, remembering clearly the drunken tears stinging her eyes at just the thought of Luke finding someone else.

"Well, then, I think you've got to go for it." Sookie shrugged as she popped another chunk of coffee cake into her mouth. "What other choice do you have?"

Lorelai pressed her hands over the nervous butterflies in her tummy. She noted that they no longer made her feel like she ready to lose her footing on the top of the stairs, tumbling down in a panic and possibly shattering her leg at the bottom. Now they were more like the anticipation felt in the climb up the first steep hill of a roller coaster, knowing the thrill that was awaiting you at the top. The drop might take your breath away, and you'd scream, but at the end the grin wouldn't leave your face and you would dash to the end of the line to ride it again.

She looked up and grinned at Sookie.

"So, is the serious part of the conversation over?" Sookie asked.

Lorelai sagged back in her chair in relief. "Yeah, I think so. Thanks, Sook."

"Good." Sookie waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Because now you owe me all the dirty parts!"

Lorelai snorted. "No way!"

"Oh, yes!" Sookie protested. "I've waited on this for years. You owe me something juicy. Somehow I've always pictured you two on a table," she added, tilting her head a bit as she regarded Lorelai.

Lorelai pulled up short. "You've thought about us like that?" she queried, taken aback.

"Well, not exactly…but I am now," Sookie admitted, shutting her eyes tight. "I guess I always thought he'd get fed up with you in the diner someday and just throw you down on a table. Probably that one right by the counter, you know…"

"Stop! Please, stop," Lorelai begged, but she was giggling. Truthfully, she'd had that fantasy more than once, herself. "Tell you what," she offered. "Delete the table, and insert an elevator."

"Ooh!" Sookie's eyes widened. "Go on!"

Lorelai laughed, and proceeded to tell Sookie all the details about the early part of the evening, as she added another slice of gooey cake to her plate.

* * *

><p>Shortly before lunchtime, Lorelai's office phone rang. She picked it up, still focusing on the spreadsheet in front of her.<p>

"This is Lorelai."

"Lorelai, it's your mother."

For once she managed not to groan. "Hi, Mom. I don't have to fill another seat for you tonight, do I?"

"No, I was just calling to make sure you got home without any mishaps the other night. I should have called you yesterday, but we had brunch with the Lexby's - and truthfully I was feeling a little under the weather…"

Lorelai interrupted her, feeling a little smugness about her mother's admittance that she had over- indulged as well. "Sure, I made it home in one piece," she assured her, figuring that Emily didn't need a timetable on _when_ her return took place.

"I'm…glad to hear that."

Lorelai waited, but Emily didn't add anything else. She knew there had to be another reason for the call. "So, how much did the songbirds benefit?"

"Well, the Hyatt agreed to halve our bill, so we cleared more than I hoped we would."

Again the conversation halted.

"Well…that's good," Lorelai ventured, waiting.

"Rory has brought friends to Friday night dinner from time to time," Emily said, plunging in abruptly.

"Yes, she has," Lorelai agreed.

"You could, too, if you wanted."

Lorelai tilted her head in confusion. "Do you want me to bring Sookie to dinner?"

"No! No, I…I thought…I know you'll blow up at this, and accuse me of interfering in your life, but just hear me out, Lorelai. It appears that you and …Luke…are good friends." It sounded like it had been a struggle for her to call him by his name. "And I'm not implying that there's anything but friendship between the two of you. But you can't deny that this man plays a huge role in your life, and in Rory's life, as well. And I just think it might be prudent if your father and I got to know him better."

Lorelai took a breath, and tried to get a handle on her feelings. She wasn't upset. She was calm. She was actually smiling a little.

"Luke seems to be able to - balance you, somehow," Emily continued, trying her best to explain. "I thought that maybe it would be advantageous for your father and I to observe how he manages to do that."

Nothing was said for several moments while Lorelai waited for the insultingly-phrased compliments her mother would surely use to berate Luke. Emily waited for her daughter to jump down her throat, condescendingly telling her she didn't know anything about her life and warning her to back off. Instead, neither woman said anything.

Lorelai cleared her throat. "Um, Luke normally works until he closes the diner on Fridays, but I guess I could ask him if he could come with us sometime." She imagined what it would feel like, to have Luke's solid strength sitting beside her on the couch as they sipped before-dinner drinks, to have his hand grasp hers under the dining room table to stop her before she could explode in anger at her parents. The little smile played on her lips again.

"Well, that - that would be fine," Emily replied, flustered. She never expected Lorelai to agree with her.

This was so far removed from their normal conversation that Lorelai wasn't sure how to continue. "So, uh, thanks. Thanks for the invitation."

"Of course," Emily said. She took a breath and tried to find her way back. "If he agrees to come, don't forget to call and tell me. Don't just show up with an extra person and expect me to stretch our meal to include him. It's just good manners to inform the hostess how many places are needed at the table, Lorelai!"

"I'll let you know, Mom," Lorelai groused, rolling her eyes. "I'm not completely without social graces!"

Both women felt better after returning to their customary needling.

After Lorelai put down the phone, she placed a pen over her fingers, watching as she was able to keep it balanced there.

"Balance," she murmured, approvingly. And she swore right then that her mother would never know how one word from her had carried so much weight.

* * *

><p>Late in the afternoon the bells jingled and Luke looked up, surprised to see Rory making her way shyly towards the counter.<p>

"Hey, Rory," he said, warily. "How was Boston?"

"It was a good trip," she said, settling onto a stool. "Lane bought as many CDs as she could comfortably hide on her body. The rest are in my bookbag until we can smuggle them past Mrs. Kim."

"You want coffee?"

"Too hot," she said, shaking her head regretfully. "How about iced tea?"

"Sure," he agreed, turning to get it. "You want lemon in it?"

"Will that negate the lecture on how I need to eat more fruit?"

"No," Luke said, smiling for the first time, relaxing a bit.

"Then skip it," she decided.

Luke sat the tall glass in front of her and she proceeded to rip open five sugar packets, stirring them into the tea with the long spoon. He watched as she picked up one more packet, worrying it back and forth between her fingers as she struggled with whatever else she wanted to say.

"Did you see your dad?" he asked, an edge to his voice. He hated bringing up that slimy weasel; he hated how callously Christopher treated _his_ girls. But he also hated seeing Rory uneasy, so he tried his best to make conversation. He'd do anything for Rory.

She took a sip of iced tea as she nodded. "It was actually a pretty good visit," she said, a little tinge of amazement in her voice. "I think it helped having Lane there as a buffer. Sherry was able to gush over her, too." Rory shook her head a little. "Mom won't believe it, but pregnancy apparently has made Sherry even perkier."

Rory's nervousness caused her bend the sugar packet even more strenuously and it tore apart, scattering the sugar over the counter.

"Sorry!" she yelped, trying to sweep the crystals up with her hands.

"It's OK," Luke reassured her, grabbing his towel and wiping up the mess.

"Luke," she said, reaching out to still his hand. He stopped, looking at her curiously, while she took a deep breath and tried to collect her thoughts. "About this morning…" she started.

"Rory, it's fine," he said, shaking his head, wanting desperately to stop her.

"No, I need - I need to explain," she stuttered, and then gave a deep sigh. "Do you know Mrs. Jenkins?" she asked, seemingly changing the subject abruptly.

"Evelyn Jenkins? Principal over at the elementary school?" At Rory's nod, he continued. "Sure. Her husband Ted was a really good friend of my Dad's. They'd get together and play poker at least once a month."

Rory gave a little groan at that, and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes.

"Rory?" Luke asked again.

"Yes, that's her," Rory said, trying to start her story again. "When I was in fourth grade, she was my teacher. She was really, really nice."

"Yeah, she is," Luke said, a soft smile turning his lips up faintly, as he remembered the vegetable lasagna she brought to them the week after his mother died. It was the only thing he could stomach that whole week. He could still see the pattern on the casserole dish. He suddenly realized that was still the recipe he used when he made it.

"Well," Rory sighed, "in fourth grade we all had journals to write in. Every morning when we'd come into the room, Mrs. Jenkins would have a topic on the board for us to write about. Now I realize it was just for us to have something to do first thing in the morning, but I took it very seriously."

"Of course you did," Luke said, fondly.

"One morning we were supposed to write about our ideal family," Rory continued. "It could be anything. We could live with the Jetson's, or with dinosaurs, or be a family of plants in the garden. We were supposed to stretch our imaginations and write anything we wanted."

"OK," Luke said, wondering what Rory could write that would be any better than the life she had growing up with Lorelai as her mother.

"So I wrote. I wrote, and wrote, and wrote."

"OK," Luke said again, as she seemed to be waiting for a response.

"At recess, Mrs. Jenkins called me up to her desk. After all the other kids were out of the room, she pulled out my journal. She told me what a good job I did with my writing. She praised my sentence structure and admired how I would always use our vocabulary words in my entries. She showed me that she had given me an A+ on it. Then she took out an Exacto knife and very carefully cut those pages out of my journal. She folded them up, and put them into an envelope, which she sealed up. She gave it to me, and explained that since I wrote about real people, it might be something I'd like to keep as private thoughts."

Rory had been rubbing her fingers up and down the smooth surface of the counter as she talked, avoiding looking at Luke's face for more than an instant at a time. She smiled, lost in her memory. "She was so kind. She never made me feel like I had written something I shouldn't. She just made me feel like my words were too precious to be looked at by anyone but me. It didn't dawn on me for a long time how embarrassing those words could have been if someone else had stumbled on them." She looked up at Luke, suddenly thoughtful. "But on some level, I must have known, because I never showed Mom. I came home and hid that envelope. It was probably the only time I never showed Mom an assignment."

"What did you write?" Luke asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Well," Rory sighed again, "I wrote that I had the perfect life with my mother, living here in Stars Hollow."

Luke gave a satisfied smile, but it fell off his face as Rory continued.

"The only thing that could make it better was if our special friend Luke Danes would live with us all the time, instead of just coming over sometimes."

"What?" Luke asked in disbelief.

"Yep," Rory said, pressing her hands over her eyes again. "I said having you as part of our family would make it complete since you made my mother jump up and down and squeal when you would come over to help us."

Luke groaned a little, suddenly recalling how Mrs. Jenkins always seemed to eye him appraisingly anytime she'd see him with Lorelai. It all made sense now.

"All I was thinking when I wrote it was how great it would be if you could make me pancakes every morning, and keep our porch put together, and make Mom worry less about how she was going to keep the household repairs manageable. I didn't realize at the time how it sounded," Rory said, trying to defend her position.

"Sure," Luke muttered.

"I just wanted you to know that the idea of you and Mom being together isn't something new for me," she rushed on. "I don't want you to think that I freaked out this morning because I didn't like you or something. I've been pretty much waiting for this to happen for a long, long time. And the idea of you and Mom together is good."

"Really?" Luke asked, suddenly hopeful, and she met his gaze steadily, nodding in confirmation.

"Yeah." She sighed again. "I freaked because I couldn't believe I didn't see it coming. Mom and I are so close, you know? I always figured that when it happened, I'd know, just because I know Mom so well. And then it happened and I was totally clueless. Somehow I'd missed the signs. It wasn't until I smelled Mom's perfume on you this morning that it all clicked together."

She looked up at him then, with the big, sad eyes he remembered from those rare days when she'd miss a spelling word. "I just always thought I'd know."

Luke's hands automatically reached for a doughnut to put in front of her, anything to take away that look.

"It's not like we started this traditionally," he said, trying to make Rory feel better. "It's like we jumped into the middle, instead of starting at the beginning."

Rory grinned before taking a huge bite of the doughnut. "You guys have had six years of beginning. I say you deserve to jump to the middle if you want."

"Yeah?" Luke questioned, smiling shyly at the young woman wolfing down the processed sugar product in front of him.

She nodded enthusiastically, picking up some fallen sprinkles with her finger. "Oh, yeah. But I do agree, it's got to be Mom's decision." She nodded at Luke, and this time let her admiration of him show. "You're pretty smart."

Luke accepted her praise with a little smirk while he focused on cleaning up the sugar spill. Of course it was all Lorelai's decision, but having Rory in the 'pro' column would surely be a big plus.

In relief he grabbed another doughnut for her.

* * *

><p>The bells jingled. Luke snapped his head up and saw Lorelai making her way inside the diner, clutching a shopping bag tightly. She took two steps towards the counter before pausing to reconsider. She briefly started for the table by the counter, but she suddenly remembered Sookie's fantasy concerning that one and stopped. Sucking in a breath, she turned on her heel and made her way to the table in front of the window instead.<p>

Luke's nerves, which had been on high alert since the Rory meltdown at breakfast, tightened themselves up even further. This didn't look good. He grasped the coffee pot firmly and walked over to Lorelai, not even realizing he'd neglected to grab a mug to pour the coffee into.

"Hey," he mumbled.

Her eyes darted nervously up at him, then around the diner and outside the window, finally resting on the bag she was clutching. "Can you…?" she asked, jerking her chin at the table.

Luke looked around the diner. Tom sat at the counter, eating a quick burger before giving the Tomlinson's on Peach the bad news about the estimate on their foundation. Two high school kids sat staring into each others eyes as they shared a plate of chili fries at a table. The rest of the diner was empty. "Sure, for a little bit," he agreed, sitting down next to her.

Before the silence could lengthen too much, Lorelai thrust the shopping bag at Luke. "Here. I bought you something."

Luke took the bag warily. He looked inside and pulled out a cellophane package of cotton candy, its pastel bands of pink and blue mangled together from the nervous clutching it had received in Lorelai's arms.

"You bought me this crap?" he asked, disgust evident in his voice. He looked at her in confusion.

Lorelai felt like her whole insides were practically vibrating from her tightly-wound nerves. "The other night," she reminded him. "You said I could tempt you -"

"Right, right," Luke said quickly, trying to stop her from saying too much.

Lorelai blew out a breath, trying to calm herself and get out the words she needed to say. "See, I thought this would be cute. Instead of actually saying all the stuff, I thought I could just give you this, and it'd be a thing, and you'd laugh, but now I'm thinkin' maybe it's not working the way I pictured," she rambled, wincing at his grumpy face.

Luke leaned a little closer to her, his jaw rigid. "This is one time I need the words, Lorelai. I need you to tell me exactly whatever the hell you're trying to tell me. I need you to be perfectly clear with me. Whatever you have to say, say it!" he hissed, trying to keep his voice down.

"It's just, you know, I had to go clear to the Wal-Mart in Litchfield to get this, because not everyone carries this spun-sugar goodness -"

"_Lorelai_!" he thundered, instantly regretting his outburst as all three people in the diner stopped and turned to stare at him. Luckily they all assumed Lorelai was teasing him as usual, and went back to their own concerns. "Just…tell me," he begged her, quietly.

"I…I want you as my friend, Luke," she said gently, and he felt his heart drop. "I can't imagine my life without you as my friend. So we have to stay friends, all right?" She let the index finger on her right hand stretch out and lightly rub against his hand lying on the table.

"Sure. We'll always be friends," Luke managed to mumble, trying not to let her see how much he was dying inside. Her gentle touch was making it even worse.

She cleared her throat, bobbing her head. "And then, you mentioned that 'friends with benefits' thing? I'm thinking that would be a good idea, too, you know. If you wanted."

Luke stopped breathing. "Oh?" he questioned, trying to look her in the eyes.

"Yeah," she confirmed, seriously. "I mean, now that I know what's going on under that flannel, I can't imagine not being able to…to touch you…and, and…" She trailed off as Luke grasped her hand firmly.

"Touching is good," he agreed, quietly, and Lorelai shut her eyes briefly at the sexy tone wrapped around his words.

Her eyes sprang back open and Luke looked into the darkness of them, trying to gauge the depth of what all she was trying to tell him. "And I think we should date, even though we both hate dating and we're not too good at it, I think we should do it."

"Dirty," he said, an automatic reflex, making her grin.

Feeling a little more confident, Lorelai continued. "I want a relationship with you, Luke. I'd like that whole package thing, you know? And I don't want to scare you here, because I know we're just starting out, but at the same time we know each other so well already, it feels like we've been together forever. So don't freak out, and I'm not sayin' this is gonna happen tomorrow, but I want a life with you. Eventually, maybe we could even find a use for that chuppah that's sitting in my yard…" Her voice shorted out uncertainly while he stared at her, unmoving and unblinking.

"Or not," she muttered, desperately wishing she could inhale the last few words back inside herself.

Suddenly Luke ripped open the bag of cotton candy, hooked his fingers around a hunk of it, and stuffed it in his mouth, nearly gagging as the cloying sweetness gritted against his teeth.

"Oh, don't!" Lorelai cried, clutching at his hand. "You don't have to do that! It was just a joke!"

Luke swallowed manfully, trying to shake the disgusted look off of his face. "That was me trying to tell you 'yes,'" he said, gruffly. "I thought it'd be cute, I thought it'd be a thing -"

Lorelai placed her hand against his face, her eyes shining, that glorious smile breaking out. "You're cute enough already," she told him lovingly.

His breath stopped while he looked at her, not able to believe this was happening. He reached for her, needing desperately to touch her, to confirm she was real and that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

"Luke," she cautioned, as he pulled her face to his, "window!"

"Don't care," he muttered, and his mouth settled blissfully over hers.

Moments passed. Long, long moments. The few diners inside were riveted to the display. Outside, Kirk paused to gape at them through the window. Taylor stopped to berate Kirk about blocking the sidewalk, but lost his words as he became aware of what was going on inside the diner. Soon a small crowd had gathered.

A sudden whoop from outside broke Lorelai and Luke apart and they watched as Gypsy tore away, racing down the block to Miss Patty's. Reverend Skinner grinned at them and gave them thumbs up, and then gently persuaded everyone to clear out, but not before Taylor shook his head at them in disgust.

"So," Lorelai began, resting her head against Luke, "I hope you didn't want to keep this a secret."

Luke shook his head. "Nothin' to hide," he assured her, running his hand through her curls.

Lorelai suddenly giggled. "Jess is going to have a lot to adjust to when he gets back."

Luke groaned, anticipating the grief he was going to receive at his nephew's hands. And the lewd comments from Babette and Miss Patty. And the self-righteous lectures from Taylor. He relaxed as he felt Lorelai's hand caressing his back and he decided he didn't care about anything else.

"We'll figure it all out," he said softly, kissing her temple.

"Yeah, we will," she agreed, confidently.

The door opened as a group of tourists stumbled inside, thankful to be out of the heat and away from the crazy townsfolk outside, who all seemed to be running distractedly up and down the streets.

Lorelai rose up, regretfully, knowing that Luke needed to get to work. "You'll come by later?" she asked hopefully.

"Couldn't keep me away," he said with conviction, as he stood, too. He turned to give her a kiss goodbye. One kiss turned into four. He put his hands firmly on her shoulders and took a step away. "Go," he ordered her, not sure that he had the self-control to stop if she didn't help him.

She gave him a saucy grin, knowing what he was thinking, and gathered her stuff to go.

"Take this, too," Luke added, shoving the cotton candy in her arms. "I hate to think of you and Rory eating this crap, but I know it's inevitable."

"I made you eat cotton candy," Lorelai bragged, waggling her eyebrows. "I wonder, Mr. Danes, whatever else I could tempt you to do?" she drawled in her southern belle voice.

Luke put his hands on his hips and tried to glare, but his face betrayed him with a goofy grin instead. "Just go!" he laughed, giving her a playful shove towards the door.

He watched her leave, shaking his head as she paused in front of the window and pulled out a strand of the cotton candy, grinning at him as she licked it off of her fingers. 'Go!' he mouthed at her, pointing down the street. She laughed, waving as she walked over to the Jeep.

"You're going to have your hands full with that one," Tom commented to him mildly, when he stepped back behind the counter.

"Oh, yeah, I know," Luke chuckled, while he washed his hands in preparation to waiting on his new customers. He didn't take offense at Tom's comment, since it was perfectly true. He knew Tom wasn't trying to give him a hard time but was just stating a fact. He was actually thrilled that his hands were going to be full. His hands, his heart, and hopefully soon a home, as well. All full to bursting.

He reached automatically for a glass of water to rinse out the sweetness that was still present in his mouth from the sugar, but he paused and reconsidered, and soon picked up the order pad and went over to the table of tourists.

He hoped that sweetness would stay in his life forever.

THE END


End file.
